


The Grey Exorcist

by SuperSneakySnek



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Demons, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Magic, Multi, Mystery, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSneakySnek/pseuds/SuperSneakySnek
Summary: In a world where the hauntings of spirits are a regular thing, there exist people capable of using these spirits as their weapons. A man hunting them - the Soul Eater - has been around for an unprecedented amount of time, sowing chaos wherever he goes.The only people capable of stopping him - exorcists - are joined together in the Black Tower. After centuries of making no discovery, the Soul Eater finally slips up, and it is up to Grey, one of the strongest exorcists in the world, to follow the monster down the rabbit hole. Once he's on the case, he quickly learns the Soul Eater is involved with more affairs then the Black Tower ever considered possible, and that the destruction he spreads may not be as random as it seems.





	1. Going Through the Motions

GREY  
I hate my boss. That shrewd bitch screwed me over yet again. Complained to her about my business class ticket, you see, and insisted on first class for the next one. Done and done! What, then, is the problem? It’s not a train ticket. She made me take a fucking boat, knowing damn well I get seasick.   
So here I am, at the train station, getting my luggage from the help, my lower back killing me. Yeah. Like I’d actually go by boat. I don’t trust the ocean. Too many unknown variables about it. The weather is shifty, the things living in it are weird and – and this is the most important part – humans can’t breathe underwater. Not getting pulled into that shit.  
I head over to the designated hotel immediately, taking note of the people I pass by. Right. Marin is a Xian-filled city, and one of the only sanctuaries for them in the country. Dextris may be the most advanced place on earth, but some stuff just doesn’t die.  
I earn weird looks as I pass them by, and a few of them even panic when they see me. The grey skin will do that to ya. Guess I can’t expect much cooperation from them. Let’s hope the schmuck who was told to welcome me is at least not a stubborn jackass. Incompetence can be dealt with, but stubborn is a bitch.  
“Might wanna ease up on the glaring, boss,” the snarker in my talisman says. “You’re gonna make them think an attack is coming.”  
Hearing the voice come seemingly out of nowhere just serves to scare the people even more, and they quickly start clearing the street. In less than a minute, I’m the only guy still walking down it. “Ain’t this place supposed to be welcoming?”  
“To the Xianese, sir. The other people, not so much.” Great. A segregated minority, then. Getting any info out of them is gonna be a bitch. “What’chu here for, anyway?”  
“Just go to sleep, Blue.”  
The spirit, as always, obeys without question, and I feel a bit of heat leave the wooden pendant. Great. Overused it again. If this day keeps getting any better, I’ll end up unemployed by the end of it.  
I get to the hotel room reserved for me, and barely manage to get the key for it. That’s how much the clerk shakes as he gives it to me. But I don’t bother staying long. The sooner I solve the case here, the sooner I can head to the next shithole. Hey, no one ever said the life of an exorcist would be fun.   
I make it to the most recent scene reported to me about. It’s a dark little alleyway, with only one door leading to it. Aside from the back exit of the restaurant, then the path I’m taking is the only way to enter. A perfect spot to off someone. Very little chance for escape, and there’s hardly enough room to maneuver around.  
I walk over to the beggar sitting down just outside the alley, huddled in his blanket. “What happened here?” The story’s famous enough. He must know about the apparition I’m searching for. But, alas, the old timer simply looks away, then brings his hand to the empty wooden bowl beside him. Yeah, I figured as much. But, hey, an exorcist’s life is comfy, so I can afford to cough up a few queens, which is probably more money than anyone in this town, sans the leadership, has seen before. “Go on. Speak.”   
“Little girl,” the man says, his voice raspy and tired, as though he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. “Comes out of the alleyway every day at dusk. The bloke followed her in there a week ago. Tourist. Looked similar to Nuka, but the skin tone was wrong. Had no idea what he was messing with. Tried telling him off, but he went in. Never saw even heard when it happened.”   
“But he did die?”  
The old man grimaces. “Body dismembered, and tossed about the alleyway.”   
“Not the kind of death that happens silently.”  
“Indeed.” He taps the bowl again, and I drop in a few jacks. He’s not suckering me into overpaying. “A woman came by three days ago. Real pretty. Pale as the moon herself. Pink eyes, though, so I stayed clear.”   
I frown. “What does that have to do with the spirit?”   
The man brings his hand to the bowl again, but I shake my head. “You’ve told me nothing I couldn’t have found out elsewhere. Give me something I can use, then I pay more.”   
He all but growls at me, but complies anyway. “Little girl hasn’t been here since the lady dropped by.”   
For real? It isn’t like spirits to just switch the locations they’re haunting. A soulbinder, then? The thing about pink eyes is worrisome. Not many of that ilk around anymore. And they did have their fair share of secrets.  
But a soulbinder like me would have to already be greying to do something like that. A rookie can’t relocate a human spirit – no way. Something else is at play here. Did the girl possess the woman? Unlikely. The spirits of kids prefer possessing other kids.  
I drop in a few more jacks. “Where should I look next?”  
“I’d go to the docs if I were you. Fishy business went down over there before this started.”   
“Why would this alleyway have anything to do with-“  
Ah, right. Behind the restaurant. Xianese superstition. Spill blood behind the place where your target dwells, and the soul of the sacrifice will haunt them. Utter nonsense, made up by shamans who had no real ability to see through the veil, much less interact with the Other.   
“Ain’t you a bit young to be doin’ that work?” the old man asks, coughing afterwards. I drop in the last two jacks I have, then turn around and start heading for the docs.   
When I get there, the thing I notice the most is a big white ship with a big red symbol on its side – the name of the restaurant, of course. So, something fishy happened here – fishy enough for a little kid to be murdered, her spirit trapped in that alley. A soulbinder is definitely present, then. Most likely, they conned their clients into killing the kid, then trapped her spirit there, telling the clients the ritual was successful. They get their work done, and avoid exposing their true gift, which is likely to get them killed. Or leashed, the way I am.   
Damn. No beggars here. Ordinary folk are a lot harder to bribe. Guess we’ll be doing this the official way.  
Walking up to a crew loading the boat next to the restaurant’s one, I touch the man closes to me on the shoulder, and he turns to glare at me. “What’d’ya want? Ain’t got no business with’chu.”   
“Oh, I think you do. I heard some nasty business went down here. Tell me what it was.”   
The man, his face red, the stink of alcohol on his breath, snarls. “Ain’t nobody tellin’ an outsider nothin’.”  
I grab him by the neck with one arm, then lift him up and dangle him over the sea. The other three men, startled, reach for their guns immediately. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. A man’s neck is such a delicate thing. I’d hate to be spooked into snapping it.”  
The first of the men – a bald old guy with a silver beard – turns to the other two and says, in Xianese, “Get him out of here. Make up a story if you have to.”  
Great. I hate having to repeat myself. “I wouldn’t do that, either.” My coattail starts to expand itself, the black responding to my call. It twists around me like a tail, then wiggles there on the ground, where anyone can see it. The man I’m holding up is barely able to breathe at this point, which the others notice, though they don’t dare do anything. “The truth, old-timer. I don’t care about anything illegal you did. I’m just interested in the spirit.”   
“Exorcist,” he grumbles. “You have no place in this town.”  
I let go of the guy I’m holding, and he drops into the ocean with a gasp, immediately climbing back onto the wooden doc. “This is my last time asking nicely. The next question will come in an interrogation room.” One of the other two men shoots at me, and my coattail snakes upward, its tip wrapping around the bullet. The man’s eyes widen, and then he and the other one start showering me with gunshots. I simply throw my hat toward them, and it stretches out into a thin, but impenetrable, wall of black, and stays that way until the two exhaust their bullets, at which point the wall turns back into a hat, and I place it back onto my head.   
The now-wet drunk reaches for his own gun, but the old guy grabs him by the wrist, shaking his head when he receives a glare. “A sorcerer, too, are you?”  
“Not here for small talk, sir. Tell me what I want to know, or heads start rolling.”  
The old man looks around, then beckons me over onto the ship. My coat extends forward again, stopping the other three from following us. The drunk glares at me as I pass him by, no doubt barely resisting the urge to spit at me.  
Once we’re inside the small boat’s cabin, the old man looks me in the eye, and gets to the point immediately. “Business with the Carson family. Old Gerald and the scum with him. Dextrese folk, all of ‘em. Child’s father owed ‘em money, and failed to pay up on time. Brought the girl here, and held her in that silver boat you’ll see off to the north. All I know.”  
I nod, and leave the ship immediately, my coat twitching behind me, making sure the men don’t do anything stupid while my back is turned. You’d think the reputation of exorcists would be enough to make ‘em fall in line, but more often than not, their pride won’t let ‘em consider you a threat. Foolish. Easier for everyone if they just fall in line.   
Now, why make the little girl’s spirit visit the alleyway at this stage? The hauntings started three weeks ago, so the girl must’ve been dead by then. If she was truly killed to curse the guy who owed them money – IE the owner of the restaurant – then the right course of action for the soulbinder would’ve been anchoring the girl’s spirit there, and leaving before anyone figured it out. But that’s not where the hauntings started.   
Ah. I see. It’s not the restaurant owner who owed them money. I can see the story clearly now. Guy owes a bad mafia family money, and can’t pay up, so his daughter is killed as a result. That much is confirmed. The daugther’s spirit then, after dying a violent death, begins to haunt Marin, starting with St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the only place of worship for Dextrains in all of Marin. The mafia had no intention of cursing the guy who owes them money. It would be the same as killing him, so there’d be no need for such complexity. A bullet would do the job just fine. Besides, you can’t collect money from someone if they’re already dead.  
That means the soulbinder is here on different business altogether, and was unrelated to the girl’s death. Most likely, it’s the pink-eyed woman, whose description doesn’t match any of the pinks we have on record. Only one woman among them, and she’s the biggest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on – something the beggar would’ve mentioned if she’d been there.   
So, the death of the girl no longer matters. It’s the soulbinder I need to look for. Why go around moving spirits? What does she have to gain? It’s risky business – something she wouldn’t be doing if she didn’t have to. Even pros are hesitant to dabble in that stuff. Nothing like magic at all.  
“Blue, how much did that cost me?”  
“Three hundred jacks only, boss,” the spirit pipes in. “Removed from your account, as per your request.”  
Good, good. That means I still have plenty to deal with an amateur soulbinder, even if she does turn out to be a magician.   
I head to the cathedral next, waltzing right through the front door. There’s only one person inside – a middle-aged woman, down on her knees, praying to Sol. Can you believe it? Worshiping the sun, of all things. Magicians can’t stand that big shiny blob. Saps away some of our strength. Besides, grey skin tends to burn easily, and there aren’t many skincare products we can use.  
I walk around the cathedral for a bit, moving from row to row, looking all over the place. I start peeking down and checking under the benches, but nothing is there. Well. If I were to use a relic to anchor a spirit, I’d probably do it in a church, too. So many items that can be used. Faith, ridiculous though it may be, has a certain power of its own, so objects of worship tend to be potent relic. She didn’t use the bell, did she? I’d hate to have to move that big thing. Nah, too obvious. And prone to having its location changed.   
“Think the relic is here, boss?”  
“Probably not.” I don’t know where the spirit will show up next. Until then, this is just an apparition-free location, where this all just happened to start. A violent death means the spirit can remain behind even without a soulbinder’s influence. Most likely, that’s what happened, and then the soulbinder took advantage of it, using the spirit for whatever she needed. Guess I’m done here.  
I leave the cathedral, then head over to the town square, approaching the Black Board sitting at the back of it. The faces of everyone who’s recently died are plastered across it, all of them Xianese. Most of them are really old, as is usually the case, but it’s clear this town is pretty damn accident-prone.  
“Hey, you,” I speak up, turning toward the blonde young man picking up the trash from the square. “Why isn’t that tourist here? You know – the one killed by the ghost.”  
His face pales a little, and he starts looking around in a panic, as if scared someone might hear. “We’re not supposed to talk about that.”  
I walk up to him, and my hat turns into a parasol, onto which I lean, causing him to grow even paler. “I’m the authority here, man. Tell me what you know.”   
His reaction is to start looking around for someone to help him, but a simple twitch of my parasol is enough to make him focus only on it. Good. At least he’s aware of what I can do. “If I talk, they’ll kill me,” he says, quiet as a mouse. Great. No point in threatening him, then, if he already has someone doing it.  
“Master won’t just kill you,” Blue pipes in, the symbol on the talisman glowing gold with each word. “He’ll bind your soul to this realm, making it impossible to know peace.”  
The kid’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back. Though I don’t like this method, I extend the parasol into a large, black scythe, the edge of the blade extending across his back, making it unwise to move further back. “P-Please…. I don’t….” Tears start filling his eyes, and my scythe turns back into a hat.  
“Beat it.”  
And so he does, with great haste, completely dropping his duty of cleaning the place. I feel Blue’s talisman heating up as his disapproval grows. “Your heart will get you killed, boss.”  
“I got my wits to keep that from happening.”  
“They are dulled by emotion. Best to discard-“  
“Go to sleep.” The symbol does down immediately, taking the spirit with it. That’s the worst part of dealing with the Otherworldly. They keep trying to take your soul from you. They may not be able to do it by force, but trickery is another thing entirely. Rely on them too much, and their price will keep growing, until your soul is all you can pay with. That’s why I went with the one who values material possessions. As long as I keep working, I’ll have enough money to pay her, and be able to continue working. It’s a whole cycle. But hey, it’s one way to make eternity pass you by.  
So, someone forbade mentioning the tourist – meaning he didn’t just walk into that alley by accident. He was lured there, so the ghost can kill him. Since he wasn’t a regular here, that means it wasn’t anyone from here who had a grudge. It’s the people he came here with I have to look for.  
And so back to the hotel I go, to talk to the sniveling clerk. His mood drops as soon as he sees me, and he’s practically blue by the time I’m standing in front of him. “Give me all long-term reservations made here.”  
“S-Sir, that’s-“  
“Now.” Technically, I am not allowed to threaten them. The most I can do is have them detained. But the fear our reputation generates is enough to make threats obsolete. They already know to be afraid.  
“Th-There’s only one besides you, sir.” He hands me a piece of paper with his shaky hands, pointing to a name written down. Solaris Arkettle. The name is neither Dextrese nor Xianese. Erubian, then, most likely. I’ve found my gal, then. It was the pink-eyed soulbinder, after all. Whatever that poor schmuck did, it was enough to turn a soulbinder dark, and that’s just never good.  
It means he might show up.  
“Is she here right now?”  
The man, head shaking, tries to signal me no, but it’s hard to tell. “H-Hasn’t been back since ye-yesterday.”   
I nod, writing the name down in my little grey book. “Call me as soon as she returns. Call the police, too. Henceforth, the woman is a wanted criminal.”   
His eyes widen, but he nods.   
“Don’t try to hold her here. Give her whatever she wants, and call me once she leaves. I mean it. She’s dangerous. Limit your interactions with her as much as possible. “I’ll be in my room.”  
The call doesn’t some at all that day, so I waste time just lying in bed, theorizing. Has she gone on the run? Might be a bit soon. It’s not like there are many people living in this town who’d be able to trace the murder to her. They’re all too terrified. But who threatened them? A single soulbinder wouldn’t be able to do that. Not even I can threaten a whole town… unless they were ignorant of my limits.  
But that’s not likely. With all the old people here, and the typical Xianese stories, warning them of the Erubian witches and warlocks, at least a few are bound to know we aren’t gods. We are fallible, and we are limited. The most likely scenario is that the soulbinder, using the money she stole from her victim, bribed the Carsons to keep the town quiet about it. Damn. If that’s the case, she has no reason to stay here.  
But moving a spirit from one town to another would require keeping it bound within the relic she used to anchoring it, and even I would struggle with that. No way she’s that pro. Most likely, she realized this after making the attempt, and just ditched the relic somewhere. Great. My job is specifically to exorcise the spirit, so I have to stick around. Let’s hope the Soul Eater won’t catch up to little Ms. Soulbinder before I do. It would suck to have a wrath be born.  
“Something troublin’ you, boss?”  
“A little.”  
“You figure the case out yet?”  
“I think so.”  
“So what’s the problem?”  
The problem is that I will get scolded if the wrath is born, and yet I will also be scolded if I give chase and leave this town to the little girl’s mischief. I’ll get scolded extra hard if I leave, and then the wrath is born anyway. If only I could have some assurance I’d be able to catch the woman quickly, then still return here and exorcize the spirit. Even Mirra wouldn’t be able to complain then.   
“Thinking about calling Johnny?”   
I chuckle a little. “Hell no. He’d never let me live it down.” Failing a simple case like this might as well be a death sentence with that douche.   
“Sir, don’t you remember?”   
I frown, sitting up.  
“That case Johnny talked about – the one he couldn’t solve. Wasn’t there a woman soulbinder involved?”  
Well, fuck me. How did I not think of that? The rest of us made a mockery of him after he went around saying an unregistered soulbinder had screwed up his job, causing the birth of a wraith. Could it actually have been true?   
Good grief. As much as it pains me to do this… I have to call Johnny.   
I go downstairs and get the clerk to hand me the hotel’s phone, then take in a deep breath, and dial the number of Johnny’s residence.  
Two minutes into the conversation, and he’s laughing his ass off. “Five hundred queens! You owe me five hundred queens, you bastard!”   
“Not bloody likely. I said I’d give you the money if you could prove an unregistered soulbinder was involved.”   
“One is.”  
“But you didn’t prove it, did you?”   
He utters a few choice words, then snickers again. “Well, what’re ya callin’ me for?”  
“Two exorcists have now witnessed an unregistered soulbinder. You know what we have to do. You deal with the boss while I find her, but tell me what she looks like first. Blue, get ready to draw.”  
As Blue takes possession of the sleeve and glove on my right arm, he starts doodling on a piece of paper as Johnny goes into detail about what the woman looked like. He has to have gotten pretty damn close to get all that. Why would he do that?  
I learn why the moment he mentions big boobs. “You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?”  
“I can’t help it, man. I love ‘em.”   
“You and your mother both.” I hang up before he can say anything else, then go over to the clerk and hand him the drawing. Beautiful face, sharp, cold features, and a calculating look in her eyes. Johnny described her lips as red, and clothes as glamorous, but there’s no way to know if she’ll keep up with that appearance. Might attract too much attention. “Give this to the cops. The woman is now a wanted fugitive. Don’t expect her to be back.”   
The phone of the hotel rings again, and the clerk hurries over there, taking the drawing with him. I turn to withdraw to my room and get my things, but the man calls out for me. “Mister exorcist! It’s a friend of yours!”  
Returning, I place the phone against my ear. “Johnny?”  
“Dude, have you forgotten where Marin’s trolleys lead to? The festival is tomorrow!”  
Huh? What is he…. Oh. Oh, I’m such an idiot. “Call the cops there. I’m on my way. Tell Mirra I’m initiating a hunt.”  
No longer bothering with packing my shit, I rush over to the trolley railway, and start running down it, as fast as I can. Marin is one of the few cities with direct access to Xibalba, and the Festival of Death of the Nuka people begins in two days. It’s a barbaric ritual, but perfectly legal, since the people being offered up as sacrifices are willing. Well, mostly coerced, I’d wager, but if a man decides to die, the law is not to interfere.   
If a soulbinder is around when twelve people willingly kill themselves…. Well, she’s already killed someone using the little girl’s ghost. And there was the trouble with Johnny back then. This woman – whoever she is – is playing the long game. She might even try to open a portal into the Other. Enough death can do that, allowing even more spirits to cross over into our world.   
But why? Why is she doing this? The whole reason soulbinders are rare is that most people don’t bother practicing their gift. Not much to be gained from it, other than a long lifespan. It’s hard, it’s exhausting, and it’s dangerous. And that’s when you do things the legal way. I can’t imagine what the woman is thinking. Is she mad? A terrorist attack? Yes, that would make sense. Her people were given the short end of the stick, after all. Might want to strike back a Dextris for what was done to them.  
I catch up with the trolley in about two hours, in the middle of the desert, and jump on top of it. “Blue, check if there’s anyone matching her description inside.”  
“Aye, aye, sir.” The spirit leaves the talisman, entering his incorporeal form, and starts the investigation, taking a little too much time for my liking. I feel him the moment he returns. “Nothing, sir. Must be in the next one.”  
“There is no next one. It’s just the one trolley going from Xibalba to Marin, and vice-versa.”  
“Oh my. Then she’s already there, plotting her plot, scheming her scheme.”   
“Blue, be quiet.”  
If a portal is opened in a city as heavily populated as Xibalba, the death toll could be in the hundreds of thousands. More if the Soul Eater catches up with her there, and a wrath goes on a rampage.   
I jump down next to the trolley, then continue running. I run until the sun sets, and immediately feel my body recover a little, the exhaustion disappearing. At least, as an exorcist, I have the luxury of always being awake. This woman, no matter how talented, is still human, and subject to the rules of human anatomy. She can empower her magic with as many souls as she needs, but she still needs to eat, sleep and shit. In a cat-and-mouse game, the exorcist always has the advantage.   
The desert gets disturbingly cold as the night goes on, the sand cooling off a lot faster than cement would. The freezing winds don’t help one bit, and neither do the sounds of hyenas cackling around me. They see something small and alone, and the urge to kill takes over them. That’s just how predators work. Nothing magnificent about them, really. They always make sure they have the advantage, and they never play fair. Good thing they’re slow.  
I get to Xibalba just as the sun rises again, and stop at the front gate. Right. It’s a city surrounded by walls. Can’t believe I forgot that one.   
A man peeks out from one of the towers framing the gate, his gun aimed at me. “Who are you? We aren’t expecting any visitors.”   
“Check the skin color.” I turn to glare at him, and the sight of my red eyes makes him start trembling. Great. A trembling moron with a gun is the most dangerous kind of moron – aside from a president. “Open the gate right now. There’s a fugitive inside, and I’m on the hunt.”  
The man, thankfully reasonable, retreats back into the tower, and then a loud clang comes from the steel gates. Slowly, they open up, and I enter the city, immediately walking over to the two guys standing guard on the inside.   
“State your name and occupation,” one of them tells me through a lazy yawn, and doesn’t wince one bit when he sees me. “Right. Sorry.”  
His partner, I’m surprised to see, isn’t Nuka. The reddish skin tone isn’t there, even if the sharp cheekbones are. Mixed? That can’t be fun – not in a place like this, where racial tensions are high.   
“Give me the list of people who came on the last trolley.”   
The sleepy man, probably about the age I was when I turned, waves me off. “Forget it. Not even the police are privy to that info. Goes to the mayor’s office immediately, and stays there.”   
Great. Gotta love bureaucracy. “Fine, then. At least tell me if a beautiful woman was one of them.”  
The guy smirks up at me as his partner whistles. “You really got it bad for her, eh? Chasin’ her all the way here – and on foot to boot. Respect, man.”  
My coattails find themselves resting on each of their shoulders, taking the shape of hands, before I can even think about it. “Please don’t make this a prolonged thing. Tell me where the woman went, or you’re all going to die.”  
The bored guy smacks the hand off his shoulder, unperturbed. “Yeah, right. We know you aren’t allowed to hurt us, or your license is getting revoked, mister exorcist. So take that bullshit-“  
I reach out, grab him by the collar, and lift him up. His partner reacts by pulling out a gun and pointing it at me, but I simply will it to fall apart, on account of it being black and all. “Listen here, jackass. I am not threatening you. The woman I am looking for is a dangerous criminal who could possibly destroy the entire city. Tell me what she stated her fuckin’ business was.”   
The guy, struggling, glares down at me, not saying a word. It’s his partner that breaks the silence. “Look, there were twenty people there! We don’t know what each of them is here for, and the list is already gone!”  
“A tall, beautiful woman with pink eyes and big boobs showed up here recently, and you expect me to believe you didn’t take special note of her?” I drop the lazy asshole, and he falls on his ass. “Tell me where the mayor’s office is, then.”  
With those instructions, I walk over to the second largest building in the city – after a religious temple, of course. The guards standing before it let me through immediately. Good. Mirra must’ve made some calls, then.  
A girl who can’t be older than twenty rushes over to me, her blonde hair tied up in a bun. “Mayor Richards is busy right now. I’m so sorry, but it can’t wait.”   
Ignoring her, I start walking toward the only door in here with a guard standing outside it, but the girl gets in my way. “Sir, I mean it. You can’t pass.”  
I lift her up, then place her to the side, and continue walking. The guard gives me a smirk, and then the girl is standing in front of me again. “Sir! This rudeness will not be excused-“  
“You’re damn right, it won’t.” I reach for her cheeks, then start stretching them, knowing she’s too scared to stop it. “Your boss is about to screw his entire city to hell, all because he’s making some sort of business deal in there. Tell him to get out here immediately. He’s got a minute, and then I’m taking him in for obstruction of justice.”  
The girl, after I let her go, takes a step back, then crosses her arms. “Those powers don’t put you above the law, sir. You’ll just have to wait like everyone else. Be lucky I’m not asking you to make an appointment first.”   
“I did make an appointment.” I flick her forehead none too gently. “It’s called an interrogation – something my boss definitely told you about, considering your readiness to deal with me. Get your boss to come out here now.”  
The girl doesn’t even flinch. Huh. This is usually the part where people start pissing themselves, pleading with me not to arrest them – or kill them, if they’re particularly foolish. “Sir, I don’t work for you. I work for the mayor.”  
“Give it up,” pipes in the guard behind her, scratching the little Mohawk he’s got. A bit old for it, if you ask me. “She’s not lettin’ you in. You’d have an easier time convincing a bull not to charge at you.”  
Yes, I’m starting to think she might be one of those. “Then she’ll be glad to tell her boss he’s being arrested and detained because of the choices she has made.”   
The girl opens her mouth to speak, but I shove her aside and quickly storm into the office, my sleeve coming to life, making three tears in itself to form two eyes and a mouth. It keeps the guard from doing anything, since he’s too busy backing away. When I open the door, I see someone jumping through the window, a hood raised over their head.  
The mayor, sweaty and red, narrows his eyes at me, the little toad. “What do you think you’re doing?”  
I approach him with a smile, then sit on the edge of his desk. “Say, that escape artist wouldn’t happen to be a particularly talented soulbinder, would they?”  
The man starts fidgeting, desperately looking for words to defend himself with. “I-I don’t owe-“  
“Me an explanation? In fact, you do.” The face from my sleeve reshapes itself into a blade, which I pointedly rest against the desk, where he can see it. “Confess in the next minute, and I let it go. Anything beyond that, and you’re complacent in blasphemy. Unregistered soulbinders are not allowed to use magic. You know that, being a man of such… promising… stature.”   
The girl storms into the office, fury in her step. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just put your hands on a lady.”  
“And I didn’t.”  
She picks up a book from the shelf beside the door, but stops before throwing it, finally contemplating her actions.  
“Easy to use words. Hard to follow through. That’s the case with almost every person I’ve ever met. Go on, girl. Hit me.” She looks from my eyes to my sleeve, and I quickly return it to normal. “Oh, that? No, don’t worry. I am not threatening you. I’m interested in seeing if you’ve got what it takes. Go on, then. Hit me.”   
She pulls her hand back, ready to throw the book – and then her eyes widen, and she drops it. The man behind me screams, and I quickly jump off the desk, putting myself between him and the girl. When I look at him, I see tears of blood streaming down his face. Looking at the desk, I see a glass of some yellow-ish drink, which the soulbinder no doubt poured for him, after bringing it in as a gift. She’s got mastery over yellow, then. Tricky. In some instances, that’ll even let her wield fire. A tricky one, for sure. But not my first.  
I turn toward the girl, whose eyes are wide with fear. “Your boss has betrayed the town. I need you to tell me what the woman who was just here wanted. What was her appointment about?”  
Impressively, the girl snaps herself out of the daze, and looks up at me. “C-Crystal. She wanted to talk about the new crystal at the museum.”  
“Let me guess; Erubian exhibit?”  
“How did you know?”  
Aha. So that’s the thing she’s planning to use to anchor all those spirits. Might even try to absorb them, if the crystal is what I think it is. So the spirits themselves are only a means to an end, and the power she’ll gain from it is what really counts. She’ll have a hard time moving around now, and definitely won’t get to stick around long enough for the ritual to be completed. Unless she goes and kills me, that is. She jumped out of the window, rather than taking the door. Now, how could she have known to do that?   
“Girl, this museum big?”  
She nods, tears threatening to spill from her big, blue eyes. “Huge. It’s part of the Temple of Sol.”  
Ah. That’s why our little soulbinder is so pissed. Not only are the Nuka inhabiting the city where her own people were once plentiful, but they’re even using some of their religious artifacts as part of their own worship. Shitty, all things considered. And yet not shitty enough to warrant genocide.   
I take the girl by the forearm, then start dragging her toward the front door. “You’re with me, then. I need a guide to the crystal.” I point a finger at the Mohawk guard, who’s quivering in the corner of the lobby. “You, put the city on lockdown. No one goes in or out until you hear from me. Clear?”  
I barely make out a nod amidst all that shivering, then go outside with the girl. Surprisingly, she takes the lead, and winds up being the one dragging me forward. “Will you move it already?”  
“So eager to help, are you? Let me guess; You were a girl scout?”   
She doesn’t even look at me as she rants. “If an exorcist is this panicky about catching her, then that means there’s trouble coming, right?”  
“You have no idea.”  
“And people will be hurt?”  
“Not if I catch her.”  
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Now move your scrawny legs already!”  
I look down, frowning. “They aren’t that scrawny.”   
We reach the museum hella fast. Fast enough, in fact, to see a hooded figure enter it. I grab the girl by the shoulders, then hold her still. “This is as far as you go.”  
She turns to look at me, red in the face. “You’re all alone.”  
“Your point?”  
“Why not wait for the police? Tell them to go in and arrest her.”  
Great. Time for just a tiny bit of exposition. You have her ignorance to thank. “That exhibit is full of Erubian relics, correct?” The girl nods. “Some of them might have power in them, and this woman has already killed at least three people.” The tourist from Marin, and the two whose deaths Johnny was investigating. “She’ll be extra dangerous this time – as well as desperate. If she holds back, she’s dead. Think of it like cornering a leopard. Normally, the cat would just ignore you. Back it into a corner, and they go on a rampage, using every trick they have up their sleeve to make it out alive.” The survival instinct’s a powerful thing, and not something I enjoy going up against. It gives people strength.  
But it also makes them stupid sometimes, and more prone to making mistakes. That’s what I’ll be betting on here.  
“So what do I do?” the girl asks, and I look from her to the museum entrance.  
“The building’s off limits, both to civilians and the police. Have the policemen surround and secure it. Does the woman know where the crystal is?”  
The girl shrugs, a tear finally escaping her. “I-I don’t know. I-I think not. M-My boss doesn’t like – d-didn’t like reading, so I guess he didn’t see it in the file.”  
I nod. Good. He couldn’t have told the soulbinder, then. Kid’s smart. “Now do what I tell ya. Give me fifteen minutes in there. I’m not out by then, tell the police to storm the place. And tell them not to hesitate to start blasting. If this woman lives, she’ll either succeed in her spell, or end up killed by the Soul Eater, and a wrath will be born.”  
“Wraith.”  
“Huh?”  
The girl wipes some of her tears away with her sleeve, blocking her eyes completely. “It’s wraith, not wrath.”   
“Nerd.”  
I start running toward the museum as fast as I can, stripping my shoes off once I’m inside. When I close the door, it gets scarily dark, even for me. Guess it wasn’t open yet. All the damn windows are closed. “Blue, keep my shoes stomping, please.”   
“Toward where?”   
I look around, trying to see any sign of life. Nope. Nothing. None of the paintings have been disturbed. Not even a broken flower pot or anything. Great. Even when desperate, she’s cautious. Smart and powerful.  
This might end up being a fun job, after all.  
“Pick any direction. Don’t rush it.”  
And so my shoes go on stomping ahead of me, going down the largest hallway. I merely stay still, waiting for them to put some distance between us. When they’re about fifty feet away, I start walking, too, my coat reaching up to cover my face, making me just about invisible in the dark. Now, if only I myself could see a damn thing, that’d be swell.  
A burst of blue puts me on edge, and I watch as my shoes are engulfed completely by the azure flame. What the hell? How? Doesn’t she control yellow? Was I wrong, then? Was the mayor just poisoned, maybe? Seems like such a pedestrian way to go about it... but I guess that might make it all the more effective.   
But where did the attack come from? I didn’t see anything.  
The sound of footsteps in the hallway to the right makes me pause. Then, moving silently, I approach, going faster once the woman manages to put some distance between us. I hear her take another right, far up ahead, so I take the hallway before that one, in an attempt to cut her off. Why go there? Is she trying to go back outside? Giving up already? Must not be combat-oriented. Few are.  
I wait for her around the corner, the exit in my line of sight, but her footsteps can’t be heard anymore. Great. Now what? I can’t predict this chick at all.  
A flash of blue in the corner of my eyes makes me jump back, my hat instantly turning into a shield. Blue’s spirit finally returns to the talisman, giving me enough juice to make blocking the flame easy. The fire dies down quickly, leaving behind a particular scent. Where did I smell that before?  
Standing there, in the hallway, is a barefoot woman, the dress beneath her cloak yellow. She throws the hood back, letting it fall off her shoulders, revealing a figure that’s just about perfect. Golden – or yellow – braces are covering both her forearms and upper arms, and she’s even got the earrings to match. Hell, even her lipstick is yellow, and she’s got a blonde streak in her otherwise dark brown hair.   
So, if she’s armed with yellow, what’s up with the blue fire?  
“I can’t let you interfere.” She says it with as much emotion as one might expect. Full of anger and hate, as well as panic at being caught. She’s definitely been on the receiving end of some good ol’ racism. Dump a member of a minority in the middle of a group of people who are all more or less the same, and hate won’t be far behind, and when it strikes, it strikes from both sides.  
“Yeah, well, I’m not about to just turn around and let you mess with the Other. Turns out, genocide is bad. Who knew?”  
“Extermination.” She extends her arm toward me, and one of those bracelets twists itself into a dagger, which flies toward my head. My collar extends forward and envelops it, my power smothering hers, causing her to lose control. “They’re vermin. Killing them should be considered extermination!”   
The rest of her bracelets come flying at the same time, all now shiny, yellow daggers. Instead of blocking them all, I allow my coat to stay behind and take the impact, while I slide beneath them and toward the woman, who immediately tries to kick me in the face. I manage to grab her foot, and then, still holding it, jump into the air, causing her to fall down on her back. Before she can move again, a black sword of resting against her neck. “Heh. You thought to use your shoes the same way I did, huh?” Could’ve really been something, had she chosen to become an exorcist. I don’t believe we have a yellow right now.  
Tears fill in the woman’s piercing pink eyes. “Why? Why defend them? You know what they did!”  
“What their ancestors did. Check the streets lately? There are children living here.”  
“The children of murderers!”  
“Flowers don’t get to choose where they bloom.” I press the sword into her neck a bit. “I hate doing this, but it’s part of the job; Any last words?”  
“Boom.”  
“Huh?”  
My sleeve suddenly catches fire, cutting off the bit of cloth that became a sword. Solaris jumps up immediately, clearly having had some professional training, and slams her palm into my chest. It doesn’t do a lot, but it’s enough to let her turn around and start running.   
I manage to tear off my sleeve before I can get burned, and then I notice something there, on the ground. Yellow powder. Sulfur. Ugh, I hate chemistry. Still, if memory serves, that shit burns blue, right? That would explain the combustion ability.   
“If you surrender now, I can recommend you to become one of us,” I speak into the darkness. “An exorcist, I mean. We could use someone with your talent.”   
“And be a lap dog of the military like you!?”  
“A semi-immortal lap dog of the military, thank you very much, who has all the food, drinks and company he could ask for.” Or would, if he learned to be smarter with money.  
“The same offer He gave me, then! You’re all the same! Some things can only be paid for in blood!”  
Finally figuring out where her voice is coming for, I make a dash for her, my shirt unraveling at my deck. Several tendrils of cloth break out of it and, moving like the legs of an insect, bring me up to the ceiling. I turn several corners, knowing the woman is now on guard, only having replied to purposely give away her location, and lead me into a trap. But this is something that’s hard to see coming.  
And indeed she doesn’t. I see the sulfur powder on the carpet below, and immediately know she is right behind that wall. I shock her thoroughly as I make the turn, swinging down from the ceiling to kick her in the face.  
What can I say? I’m a feminist.  
Blood flows from her broken nose, and tears start swelling up in her eyes. Her dress starts unraveling itself and lashing forward, but misses me entirely. The tendrils from my back move into position as I land, all aiming at her chest.  
But then she throws her arm out, and yellow powder fills the space around us. Uh-oh.  
My clothes move to wrap around me as fast as they can, becoming as sturdy as they can. The fire comes to life with a roar completely different to the sounds the other flames made – and it’s red in color, too, as I can see right through my shirt-armor. The blast knocks me back, and I hear the woman scream as it catches her, too.  
Prying the clothes off of myself, I’m left with only my pants. But she’s doing much worse, still on her back, trying to swat at the fire crawling up her legs. “Help! Please!”  
And I do – by tearing out a piece of the shirt now lying on the ground, and wrapping it up into a spear. Taking a step back, I aim for her head, and see her eyes widen in realization.   
“No! Please! I don’t-“  
“Don’t want to die?” She screeches something incoherent as a reply, and then I swing my arm.  
But I’m too late. A silver sword appears out of thin air, slamming into the woman’s chest. Her screams die out instantly, her back arching as she throws her head back. Slowly, starting from the tips of her fingers, her skin starts turning black. She opens her mouth wide, then proceeds to slowly stand up. The dress falls from her as her body completely thins out, and then her hair does the same, a pair of horns sprouting in its stead. The fire from her legs moves to her neck, becoming a sort of makeshift cape. Her eyes hollow out, and she opens her mouth wide, the skin peeling from it as well as her neck. Her tongue falls down through the gap in her lower jack, and then she cocks her head to the side, staring at me.  
Uh-oh. I was too late.  
It’s a wraith.   
Somewhere behind the newly-resurrected monster, I see a figure in gray. He’s wearing more or less the same coat I always do, only in his signature color. A ridiculous mask is covering his face – one of some sort of wide-smiling goblin. The mask covers even his eyes, leaving me puzzled about how he sees with the damn thing on.   
And then the humming. That humming I remember from that night, all those years ago. That same, dreadful tune, which church bells seem to accompany whenever he hums it, echoing around me from every direction. That’s the way he introduces himself. When you hear that humming, you can do only one thing; You turn around and you run.  
The wraith throws its head back and screeches, putting all my attention firmly on it. Fire starts gathering in the monster’s hollow mouth, concentrating into a small, blue orb. A similar light appears in its empty eye sockets, and then the wraith releases the attack – not at me, but at the ceiling, burning a hole straight through the top. Of course. Wraiths run from exorcists. It’s the predatory instinct in them. They know we’re the only thing that poses a threat, so they try to get the hell away, unless the odds are squarely in their favor.  
The wraith crouches down, then jumps up through the ceiling hole. Grabbing the remnants of my shirt, I go after it, turning the charred fabric into a grappling hook, which reels me upwards on its own. I have to close my eyes because of the sudden flare of sunlight, the grappling hook slowly wrapping around me again. Great. This job’s gonna cost me more than it pays.  
The wraith, screeching, is already attacking some civilians – the mayor’s assistant, namely. My shirt starts shifting into a weapon again, the monster now advancing on the crawling girl. Once my shirt is one huge throwing star, I clutch my talisman with my other hand. “Make sure it hits, Blue. We have to make this quick.”  
“Roger that, boss.”  
As the spirit leaves the talisman, I hurl the star forward. The wraith’s senses pick up on danger immediately, and it dodges at the last second, jumping ten times higher than any human can. But blue, now the shuriken’s pilot, whirls the weapon around, using what is no doubt the last of his strength. The wraith extends a palm toward the incoming weapon, sending out a blast of fire.  
But it’s too late. The shuriken lops off the arm it extended, and it starts falling down, back-first. I jump down from the roof immediately, my pants tearing themselves off of my body, and forming a scythe. “May you know peace in death, such as you never knew in life.”   
With a swing of the scythe, I tear through the wraith’s body before it can even hit the ground. The weapon goes through it like paper, turning the monster into ash as soon as it touches it. A pillar of blue light rises into the air from the spot of the wraith’s death, forcing me to shield my eyes.  
And then the assistant screams, and I immediately run around the pillar, where I see the light engulfing her foot. My socks spring to life, piercing through the light to cover the girl’s foot, and then I lift her up, pulling her out of there. Storm clouds begin to gather in the sky, where the pillar meets them, lightning and thunder coming within seconds.  
The blue light fades away, and rain begins to fall. I look down at the blushing assistant, then realize the grey is gone from my skin. Great. Overheated again. “You okay?”   
“Y-Yeah.”   
“Still think I shouldn’t have stormed into that office?”  
“Um….”  
“Yeah, kind of embarrassing, huh?”  
“No, that’s not what I mean.” She trails her eyes down to my chest, and then I look down as well. People start gathering around at that very moment, and the flash of what I can only hope is lightning hits my eyes.  
When I can see again, I realize it’s not lightning. It’s a camera. Pointing straight at me. The people gathered around immediately start whispering to one another, and all I can do is slowly die inside.   
“Hey, Mr. Exorcist?”   
“Grey,” I tell her, and then she hisses.  
“Right. Well, um. I think I sprained my ankle. Mind taking me to the hospital?”  
“Yeah. Sure.”   
“Um, also, I’m kind of unemployed now, so would you mind giving me a good referral?”   
“That’s what you’re concerned about right now?”   
“Oh, right. Ankle first.”  
And so I carry her to the nearest hospital, just about done with the day. I spend the night writing my report on the case, finishing in what will no doubt be considered a failure by the boss lady. In the morning, I wake up back in the hotel, and immediately go to check out at the lobby, where I take the morning paper.   
The headline? “NAKED MAN CARRIES YOUNG GIRL THROUGH XIBALBA.” Oh, are the guys gonna have a field day with that one….  
When I leave the hotel, I’m surprised to find the assistant there, her leg wrapped in bandages. She’s got a bright smile on her face. And a suitcase sitting beside her.  
“Oh, no.”   
“An exorcist called Johnny called-“ Oh, no he fucking didn’t. “-and said that since I was exposed to the wraith’s dying light, there might be some unforeseen side-effects.” Johnny, I will skin you alive. “He wants me to come with you, at least until I get checked out by a pro.” How could this job have turned out like this? What did I do to deserve it? “I mentioned to him that I wouldn’t be able to pay for a trip, so he told me to just work it off.” Of course he did. “So, hello, mister Grey! I’m Erin, your new assistant.”   
The girl, still smiling, gives me a salute. I just walk by her in silence, heading for the trolley. Time to do what I actually came here to do, and exorcize that little girl.   
“Sir, where are we heading? The train for the Black Tower leaves in an hour. I already got us both tickets, but we still ought to get there early. Sir? Sir, why are you following the trolley rails? Sir, please don’t ignore me! Would you slow the hell down!? I’ve got an injured foot here! Sir! Sir! Sir, this isn’t funny! Don’t ignore me, you arrogant bastard!”   
The feeling of her shoe hitting the back of my head becomes, happily enough, the highlight of my week.  



	2. The Black Tower

GREY  
Erin and I are quiet as we sit on the train, neither of us really comfortable with the situation. Fucking hell, Johnny. Is this another of his attempts to get me to stop working solo? Does he honestly think I’ll be bringing a civilian with me wherever I go? Screw that. I’m ditching her as soon as possible.  
The girl, noticing my glare, looks up from the book she’s reading, eyebrow raised. “Yes?”  
“Did the exorcist you spoke to actually give you a choice in the matter? Or was it more of a direct order to come with me?”   
“He told me to accompany you to the Black Tower, but everything besides that is up to me.”  
In other words, he’s already arranged the paperwork for her to become my full-time employee, to avoid giving me the chance to let her go. “You seem to be taking it remarkably well, considering you’ve left behind your whole career. What gives?”  
Closing the book, she leans on the window, looking through it. “Did it look like Dextrians had a lot of opportunities back there? I was lucky to have landed the gig I had. Then someone showed up to ruin it all.”   
“Hey, now. I’m not the one who killed the bastard. Besides – and trust me when I say I have enough experience to know this – you don’t want to get involved with politics. Living as a common thief is closer to honest work than that.”  
“Hold old?”   
“Huh?”  
She straightens up, looking at me again, more intently now. “Exorcists don’t age the way we do, right? So how old are you? Or is that taboo?”   
I shrug. “Not really taboo, but it’s also not something I can answer. I’m sure there are records of the exact date of my turning, but my mind doesn’t really register the flow of time anymore, so I really can’t say.”   
“Well, can you tell me what period you’re from? Like, what was the world like back then?”  
“Sheesh, kid. I’m not a thousand years old. Maybe a century or two, give or take. Does this really look like a safe enough profession to let us live that long? Yeah, we’ve stopped aging, but a lot of us live shorter lives than ordinary folk.” Suddenly, I remember how Johnny and I had to open our windows wide and yell at each other from the hills we grew up on, so the other would hear. “Well, it was before phones, though.”  
Her eyes widen, her body stiffening. “But that’s at least a hundred and forty.”   
Has it really been that long? Feels like it’s been way less. “So it is.”   
I stand up and close the door to the compartment, then pull the blinds down the window. When Erin opens her mouth to question me, I just hold my hand up, then take off the pendant I’m wearing, and place it on the seat next to her. “Mammon. Mammon. Mammon.”  
Three times and it is done. That is how one summons things that exist in the Other. It is rare to know their true names, though. This one I happen to know because of the contract we’ve made.  
The pendant flashes a chilling blue light, and then a woman is sitting there. Erin yelps, trying to move further toward the window. The woman is tall, pale and dressed in a pinstripe suit, shades of grey surrounding her body. Her chin-length black hair is one of the few things to actually suggest she’s a woman, since this is one of the few times she isn’t keeping it tucked beneath a top hat. The woman looks at me, and offers a nod. “Well met.”   
“W-What the hell?” Erin looks from the demon to me, voice shaky and high-pitched. “What is this? How did you do-“   
“Erin, meet Mammon. Mammon, meet my assistant.”  
The demoness cocks her head to the side in confusion, the ghost of a smirk spreading across her face. “Is that so? I was under the impression you weren’t one for wasting money like that.” Her voice is formal and serious as she speaks, with only echoes of actual emotions peppered throughout. “Did you not expressly state your desire not to have one?” The smirk becomes sharper, then, along with the look in her eyes. “Is that not why your financial situation is as it is?”   
Erin looks like she’d rather throw herself out the window than remain here, though the demon pays her no attention. “M-Mammon, but that’s….”  
“The Prince of Greed? That she is.” The girl gives me an angry look, taking a deep breath. “What? Did you think my power comes from the feathered ones? Magic has a price, and Mammon is the one I’m paying.” The demon smiles, holding up her palm. I place the sole king I have in it, and she pockets it. “Literally.”  
“Did you truly pay that just to introduce me to her?” Mammon leans back in her seat, crossing her arms. “No, I suppose not. You’ve only brought me forth twice before, both under far less pleasant circumstances. Tell me, Grey; Why have I been brought here?”  
Erin decides not to say whatever it was she was about to say, and instead settles for making herself seem as small as possible. “A wraith was created right before my eyes. The Soul Eater was there.”  
“I imagine he was, if a wraith was born.”  
“He appeared out of nowhere, and so did his sword.”  
“I imagine so.”  
“How, then, do I stop that from happening?” I hadn’t sensed a damn thing before he showed up. There was absolutely no chance I could have stopped that sword from killing Solaris, and turning her into the monster she became. “How do I stop something I can’t see coming?”  
Mammon smiles again, lazily closing one eye. “You learn to see it coming.”   
“Cryptic advice isn’t what I pay you for, you know.”  
“And yet that is as far as my advice will go.”  
“Seriously?” The look she gives me, more serious than the others, reveals more than anything she’s told me thus far. She respects her deals, valuing money too much to screw someone over, since people would then be less likely to call on her. But, then, that means she genuinely has no clue how to stop the Soul Eater. Does that mean he’s not a demon?  
“The Gray Man?” Erin asks, gritting her teeth. I’m taken aback when I look at her, the expression of pure contempt twisting her face into something barely recognizable. “The Gray Man was there?”   
Ah. So she’s one of the many unfortunate ones who’ve had an encounter with him. At the rate he’s doing, it won’t be long before the number of people he’s scorned exceeds the number of non-believers. And yet there’s no endgame in sight. Whatever he’s doing, it doesn’t seem calculated. Sometimes, he shows up to create new wraiths. Other times, the soulbinder escapes him completely. The only thing we’re sure about him is that he flees from exorcists, much like a wraith might.   
Mammon smiles at the girl, then slowly starts vanishing. “It appears our time is up, Grey. Duty calls, I’m afraid.” As one of the sovereigns of the Other disappears, Erin grows more and more emboldened, moving to sit squarely across me, so that she can look me dead in the eye.  
“Why was he there?”   
I best not pry right now. It’ll just make her shut down and drown in the theories about him. Best to remain impassive. “The Soul Eater is the one responsible for the creation of wraiths. Wherever a wraith shows up, he was there. There is no other way to create them.”   
She takes in a sharp breath, fingers interlocked as she leans forward. “Are you after him?”  
“Right now? No. In general? That’s the purpose of the Black Tower of Exorcists. It was founded specifically to hunt him down.”   
“But that… that means he’s been around a long time.”   
I nod. “Longer than the current head exorcist. By a good margin.”  
“And you still haven’t caught him?” she snaps. “He’s just one man. How hard can it be?”   
“Need I remind you of the Tragedy of Abe Isla? He’s not exactly an easy guy to beat.” That day, at the home country of the Nuka, a chain of seven islands was sunk completely. It was the only time the Soul Eater was caught, and then he went on to prove he isn’t just good at escaping. He’s a hell of a lot stronger than us exorcists, too.   
“What is he?” Her voice is trembling as she fights her tears. “What the hell is he? A demon?”   
“No. Mammon would know a fellow demon.”  
“What, then!? Is he an exorcist like you? A spirit? What is he? How does he die?” And there we go. That’s the thing I was afraid of the most. She’s got a personal score to settle with the slippery bastard, which means she’s not going to be turning away from me anytime soon. It’s hard to come by the job she has now, and being close to exorcists means being close to the Soul Eater. No one encounters him as often as we do.   
“We don’t know.” The horrible truth exorcists are reluctant to admit to the world. We have absolutely no idea how to find, catch or kill the Soul Eater. He shows up out of nowhere. He has strange abilities that don’t abide by the laws of magic. He’s got enough power to sink seven islands in one go. On top of all that, we don’t even know what he looks like. It’s always one mask or another. The only thing that never changes is the grey coat of his. Eight hundred years of existence, and we have zero leads. It’s not lookin’ so hot.  
Erin falls silent after that, weeping to herself, trying to stop me from seeing. I don’t know why she thought she could, since we are literally stuck in this tiny box together, but I don’t say anything about it. It’s best she get it out of her system now. The Black Tower won’t be as forgiving.  
The train leaves us directly at the Black Tower, and as soon as we get our luggage, servants come to take it from us, all of them wearing white cloaks. Crosses are big for a lot of exorcists, but I’m not one of them. The power of faith isn’t something I’m able to understand, so I don’t bother relying on it, even if I can admit it’s there. But these servants don’t rely on it, either. Instead, it’s used to suppress their gifts until they’re ready to be turned.   
We approach the front gate – a giant, ugly thing made of steel, connecting dozens of limestone pillars, each five times taller than me. There’s a hedge just on the other side, for privacy reasons, but it does little to undo the stiffness of the place.  
The lock of the gate is the weirdest, and ugliest, thing about it. It’s the head of some sort of demon, its mouth wide open, the keyhole inside. Ugh. Talk about tacky. I take Blue’s talisman, and hold it against the mouth of the lock. The eyes of the demon flash for a second, and then the gate opens, allowing us onto the property.  
And what a property it is. I don’t know the exact number, but it puts most villas to shame. Most visitors prefer driving all the way up to the building itself, because of how ridiculously far it is from the fence. You can just barely make out the tower’s shape in the distance, across the grassy fields. Or, well, the shape of the tip of the tower.   
To our right, quite oddly, is the range for archery practice. Don’t ask me what idiot decided to put it near the fence. Never made sense to me, either. It’s the biggest hazard about this place, and we fight spirits on a regular basis. Bows and arrows are what most exorcists go with. Guns, even if blessed, typically don’t work on things from the Other. We never quite figured out why, but my guess is that they come from too modern an age. There’s nothing holy or special about them. They’re just easy to mass-produce.   
To our left are the stables, also placed in a stupid location. We get several complaints a week about the smell. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Honestly, I think Mirra just put it there to torment the newbies as they practice their archery. If you’re weak-willed enough to complain about the smell, you have no business fighting beings who can invade your mind.   
We finish walking up to the main building, and the door opens for us immediately. No key needed. Trust me when I say that we don’t worry about people breaking in. If you were clever and foolish enough to make it onto the property, you’re already a goner. Exorcists are hard to come by, and it wouldn’t do to have us assassinated while we sleep.  
Erin sticks close to me, and I catch her nervously looking around as we enter. The very first thing inside is a set of stairs, and I chuckle as one of the servants groans upon seeing it. The girl sure did pack a lot.  
The inside of the building is very formal, almost hospital-like at first, given the white walls and floors. It isn’t until we reach the first of fifty levels that it starts being more on the cozy side. But even so, it’s still like a castle down here – a modern version of one. Electricity is present on all floors, thank god, so we do have pretty good lighting. When I first joined, it was all torches, so none of us really wanted to be in here.   
“Lady Mirra wants you to report to her office immediately,” one of the servants tells me as they go to take our bags away.  
“Where’s my room, then?” Erin asks, and then I remember another awful fact; Assistants share living quarters with their exorcist. “Oh, fuck no. I’m not living with a guy!”  
“Relax, it’s got two separate beds in it.”   
“I need privacy!”  
“Why? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”   
“You are an old man!”   
“And you’re an insufferable brat.” Though the same could easily be applied to me. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to argue with the head honcho over it. What Mirra says, goes – end of. We can talk boundaries and schedules bathroom times later.”  
I hurry down the staircase before she can argue any further, going all the way down to the fortieth floor, the widest of them all.   
“A-All… the way… down here…” Sweat is covering Erin from head to toe, and she’s hunched over as she struggles to breathe. “How is there even… air down here…?”   
“Good question!” I never really thought to ask, but I’m guessing there’s a way of pumping it into the tower. Exorcists need it as much as ordinary folk. “Don’t worry. We only come here to report after jobs. I make it a point not to stay here for too long.”  
“Why’s that?”  
“It may be the most powerful in the world, but the Black Tower is still a mortal organization. We have quite the few ladder climbers – exorcists who don’t give a rat’s ass about saving the spirits. They’re only here to make a profit and gain power. Some former exorcists have even attempted to take over the country, but Mirra has handled them swiftly.”   
“And by that, you mean….?” She drags her finger across her throat, getting herself a nod. “By the way, you just said you save spirits?” I nod again. “Don’t you mean save people from spirits? Isn’t that your job?”   
I start walking again. “The physical world is temporary. It will not last forever. The soul is what we’re trying to keep safe. As long as the human soul survives, they’re not really dead – not for good, anyway.”  
She chuckles a little, catching up to me. “You mean in Heaven? Didn’t take you for the religious kind, Grey.”  
I can’t help but snort in response. “I’m not, trust me. You can believe in Heaven or Hell, or whatever the hell you want to believe it. I have no faith. I have seen the Other – the place we enter after death – with my own eyes. Whether Hell or Heaven exist in it, or even beyond it, for that matter, is another question entirely. I can’t see them, so I have no use for them.”   
“You know, it’s a little late to play up the tough guy act. You’ve already told me you wanna protect people. I know you’re a good guy.”   
“That-“ I point a finger at her. “-is exactly the sort of thinking that’s going to make you an easy target here. We should leave as soon as we report to Mirra. She can send us another job wherever we go.”   
“Target?” she gulps. “Who’d wanna target me? I just got here.”   
“And you’re under my protection. If you get hurt, it undermines my ability, and so one of the grubby gits here might try to take my position from me.”   
“Position?”  
“My rank as an exorcist. Once you reach the top ten, you get an official number to go with your skill. Mirra, as you might’ve guessed, is number one. I’m not entirely sure the rest of us combined would be able to take her on.” And yet even she considers herself weaker than the Soul Eater. The thought is unnerving, to say the least.  
“So what rank are you?”  
Sheesh. This kid’s got no problem asking questions, does she? Normally, newcomers try to be as reserved as possible, to avoid showing any sort of weakness to the others. Hope she doesn’t get like this with Mirra. “What do you think?”  
“Well, I really couldn’t say. I haven’t met any other exorcist. You could be the strongest, or you could be the weakest. There’s no way for me to know. I’d just be guessing at random.” We stop in front of the door to Mirra’s office, which is always unlocked. One of the woman’s ways of marking her turf. It offers the rest the following sentiment: “Come at me if you’ve got the balls.” None of us do. She makes a point of demonstrating her power to all the rookies. Once you see her fold a tank in half, you lose the will to challenge her.  
We open the door, and a knife is immediately flung at my head, but slowly enough to be caught. A nice enough greeting, all things considered. Erin yelps and starts eyeing the dark room nervously as we enter, and does her best to use me as a body shield. “Hey, boss.”  
The woman, her arm still peeking around the chair, is staring at the wall behind her back. Slowly, the chair turns around, revealing a total shrimp of a person, standing at only four foot nine. Even Erin is a giant in comparison. Mirra’s icy blue eyes narrow as they meet mine, after which she runs her hand through her short blond hair, which is much lighter than Erin’s, and groans. “Have you any idea how many phone calls I’ve had to make to assure people you weren’t – How did they say it? Oh, yes. – tappin’ that piece in public?”  
I offer her a small smile. “Three?” She throws another of the knives she keeps on her toward me, but purposely mostly misses, giving only my cheek a small cut. “Look, the Soul Eater appeared out of nowhere. I never even saw him enter the museum. I couldn’t well have let the wraith get away, could I have?”  
She points a finger at the girl beside me. “Had you not been so stubborn, you would’ve already had an assistant back then, and they could’ve told you about the Whistler. I am not angry because you took a risk to bring the wraith down; That was the correct decision. I am angry because a wraith was born in the first place, when it could have been avoided.” Erin yelps as the woman’s eyes fall on her. “Keep this one as long as possible. I am officially revoking your right to fire her. Regardless of her level of competence, she remains your assistant for good.”  
I frown at the head bitch. “Now, hold on a minute. Who said she wants this job? You can force my hand, but she’s a civilian. She’s only here so you can learn more about the jerkass mayor, right? Maybe she’ll want to go after that.”  
Erin decides now is the perfect time to chime in. “No. I want to keep working here.”   
“You’re killin’ me here, kid.”   
“Excellent.” Mirra stands up, making even a move like that seem sharp and purposeful. “I’m assuming you want to leave right away, so your next job has already been prepared. Before that, there is something I would like to run by you. Ms. Assistant, please give us a minute.”  
Erin, after looking at me, nods, then goes through with the order. “You seem on edge,” I tell Mirra. “Is it bad?”  
Opening one of the drawers of her desk, she pulls out a flask, then takes a damn long sip. “You have no idea, Grey. That wraith you fought? One of three in the last few days.”  
My heart nearly rips itself out of my chest at the news. “Three? In such a short amount of time? But that’s…. Has that ever happened before?”  
“No. Not ever. Not when the Whistler first showed up, and not during the years when people feared him the most. He has never been this busy before. And the Tower has never allowed so many soulbinders to be killed before.”  
“The other two – also unregistered?” She nods. “That’s… odd.”  
“It also confirms our theory that the Whistler can either teleport or fly. The other two attacks happened in Qerro and Narth, nowhere near your location. He wouldn’t have been able to reach them without one of those abilities.”   
Wait. Qerro and Narth…. If memory serves, those two are close to the borders of Dextris, just like Xibalba. Another theory is also plausible. “Could he be riding the magic circle around the country?”  
Mirra almost looks impressed, then shakes her head. “I’ve already had that looked into. A few years ago, there was a different soulbinder in Xibalba, and the Whistler did not touch them. If he was connected to the magic circle in any way, he would have sensed the soulbinder’s activities. Something else is at play here.”   
I grunt. “There was no need to send Erin out for something like that. What else is there?”   
Taking another sip from the flask, she pauses for a moment. “Michael is dead.”   
It takes me a few seconds to let the words sink in. “Michael? Our Michael?” She nods, drinking some more. “Son of a bitch. How? Who could have…?” He was our number two. Nobody should’ve been powerful enough to take him on – nobody.  
“We have no clue, but it happened in Thorn. Just days prior to it, he’d told me he was picking up on a big lead. So whoever did it, did it to silence him – to stop him from digging up something big.”  
That seems about right. It’s the Thorn part that troubles me. The capital of Dextris typically makes a point of not tolerating magic. It’s too big and too populated to show any sort of lenience. A single wraith going on a rampage there could kill hundreds of thousands, even with an exorcist on its tail. Also, the president of hardly fond of us. He’s doing too much shady business of his own to want the Black Tower snooping around. “Political?”   
“That’s what you’re going to find out.” She’s great at hiding it, but I know she’s hurting. Michael was her oldest friend, and though she can’t openly show weakness about it by crying, I’m guessing she’s spending her time destroying the training room. “Your next job is in Cherry Peaks, a small village close to Thorn.”   
“Make up an excuse to go checking out the city?” She gives me a look that confirms that. “Not afraid of putting me in that same danger, are ya?” If it were just me, I wouldn’t mind going, but since Erin is going to be there as well, I’ve got to be more careful than ever. Political disputes hardly ever end well for citizens.   
“The Carsons are furious with you as well. They didn’t appreciating forcing the information out of those three men your report says you’ve encountered. I’d expect some retribution if I were you.”  
I snort loudly. Yeah. With the Soul Eater and the president going around, being as shifty as possible, I’m going to worry about a washed-up mafia family – one I’ve dealt with in the past. The last thing their last boss ever learned in his life was not to screw with the Black Tower. “Thanks. I think I’ll manage somehow.”  
“Also.” She opens another drawer, takes out a file, then throws it at me. “Read it before you depart. That’s everything Michael managed to get to me. I haven’t been able to make sense of it, but I’d like you to try to, anyway. That symbol on the first page is particularly worrying.”   
I open the file, exposing the symbol. It’s a circle with some sort of rune in the middle, though I don’t recognize which one. The sharp lines of it imply it’s Xianese in origin, though. “Want me to snoop through the Library of the People of Dextris, and see what I can dig up?”   
“Clearly.”   
“Is that what Michael was doing?”  
She shakes her head, emptying the flash. “Michael was visiting several of the politicians who are fighting for the rights of the Nuka and Xianese in Thorn, trying to help them take back some of their customs. That is what the initial intent was. How he wound up spiraling down that rabbit hole is in that file. Don’t skirt through like you normally do, Grey. This is a serious one.”   
I nod, then hear a shriek from outside the office. Erin. I rush out as fast as I can, my coat already twisting around my arm, to give it that extra something in case I decide to throw a punch. When I open the door, I see a woman not unlike Solaris, all beauty and grace, looking down at Erin. The green of the woman’s dress is shifting around, the sash she’s wearing snaking toward the trembling girl, only stopping when I step between them. “Lea.”  
She smiles slightly at me, narrowing the eye not obscured by her luscious, red hair. “Grey. How wonderful to see you.”  
It’s one-sided, bitch. “Mind explaining what you’re doing to my assistant?” I feel Erin grab the back of my coat from behind, slowly getting back on her feet.  
Lea gives me an innocent smile, accompanied by a shrug. “Oh, my. Is that who she is? The boss finally managed to get you to accept one, huh? We ought to throw a party to commemorate this rare occasion.”   
I take a step toward her, but she manages to maintain that smile. “You haven’t answered my question, Lea. Please do so.” Before I rip your hair clean off. Won’t be my first such attempt, either. She’s lucky the boss was there last time, or I really might’ve killed her.   
“She didn’t greet me properly. I felt deeply insulted. A civilian ought to be more polite when speaking to her betters.”  
I almost reach out and grab her by the neck, the realization that such an action would be giving her the win serving as the only thing stopping me from doing so. “Betters? So you’ve finally managed to crack that case in Armstrong? Do tell.”  
Lea’s smile fades quickly, and I know I’ve won. That case has been a struggle for her for half a year now. Try as she might, she can’t seem to deal with the rising number of spirits wandering that city. She gets rid of one, and another just takes its place. It’s clear someone there is doing nasty business, but it ain’t my job to figure it out. Couldn’t have happened to a greedier money-grabber.  
Then her eyes trail down to the file I’m holding, and I realize I might not have won after all. Shit. If the boss gave it to me in private, then it wasn’t meant for the eyes of the others. I can almost feel the glare Mirra is giving me right now. Oops?  
“Already taking another job? Wouldn’t you rather stay for a while?” Lea asks, doing her best to be as flirty as she can be. She doesn’t really need to. With how low-hanging her dress is, she might as well just give up the instant a guy isn’t eating out of her hand.   
“Sorry, no can do. I’m afraid your perfume would end up suffocating me. I never could stand Desperation.”   
Dropping all attempts at faking manners, she takes a step toward me. “I’m not afraid of you, Four. Just because no one has challenged you in a long time, doesn’t mean they won’t do so in the future. Your stay in that room could end up being less permanent than you believe.”   
“Alas, if such a day does come, it won’t be you who takes my crown, Nine. You’ve tried before, remember? How’s your leg these days?” Some of the redness of her hair spreads down to her cheeks as she recalls the time I bent her knee backwards. She’d only joined us a few months prior to that, and was intent on making it to One. The breaking of one’s pride hurts like a bitch.   
Sneering with newfound arrogance, she throws one glance over my shoulder, as Erin stands up. “Oh, I don’t know about that one, Four. I’ve been spending some time with Johnny. Got to learn all about your tricks.”  
I openly burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement, then just start walking, Erin in tow. The day Johnny betrays me is the day hell freezes over. She could not have chosen a stupider strategy. He probably fed her all sorts of misinformation, and kept it up for months, just to see the look on her face when she realized the truth.   
“You okay?” I ask Erin, now walking beside me. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”  
The girl shakes her head. “She tried.”  
“Attagirl. Don’t let scum like her get to you. She’s one of the ladder climbers I mentioned before. A rotten apple, through-and-through. Hasn’t closed a significant case in a long time, so she’s getting desperate. Mirra is breathing down her neck, threatening to demote her. An ego like hers can’t take a hit like that.”  
Stopping outside our room, I open the door for her, handing her the files as well. “Don’t go digging through these. They’re for my eyes only. Anyone comes knocking, you send them packing. The bathroom is in the back. You can do anything except touch the bedside table, right side when you’re in bed.” I turn around and start walking, and the girl doesn’t ask a single thing. Of course not. Now that she knows there are places she isn’t allowed to snoop around, that’s all she can think about. Probably can’t wait for me to be out of sight, so she can get on with the expedition. Alas, all she will find in the cupboard is a note saying, “I know you’re looking. Stop.” Scared the crap out of the last servant who tried. Poor guy ended up running away.  
I slam open Johnny’s door without warning, and he jumps to his feet immediately, brown scarf moving to wrap around me.  
“Aww, I missed you, too.”   
After a brief flicker of annoyance, a bright smile plasters itself onto his face. “You little shit. I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”   
Walking in, I slam the door shut, then throw myself at the foot of his bed. “Yeah, turns out Erin’s got a knack for scheduling stuff. Switched the scheduled train for another passing in this direction.”  
“So you’re not going to-“ I reach out, grab him by the beck of the shirt, then pull him back, knocking him onto the bed, next to me. “Oh, you’re going to.”  
With my arm around his shoulders, it’s easy to bring him in closer. And closer. And closer. In seconds, he’s struggling to break free. “You fuckin’ gave me an assistant, J. What the hell?”  
“Y-You needed one, badly. You w-were always late… with your… assignments….” He’s gasping for air now, and I let him go, but not after flicking his forehead as hard as I can. “Ow. Come on, man. You know she’s good. I asked a few contacts about her, and they had nothing but praise. She’s even dabbled in healing before, so you’ll no longer have to pay all those hospital bills, either.”   
“She’s human. A weak, defenseless human. Lea almost sank her claws into her a minute ago.”   
Johnny grins at the mention of the name. “You’re not gonna believe this….”   
“You screwed her over, lying your ass off in exchange for booty calls?” I grin at him. “Well played.”  
“Took a page out of your book. I thought you might approve.” Sitting up, he fixes his glasses a little. “So, did Mirra chew you out?”   
“Not as bad as it could’ve been.”  
“Really? That’s a surprise. She’s been in a bad mood ever since Michael.” Throwing one of his legs over me, he sits in my lap, then leans down to press our noses against one another. “And I’ve been in a bad mood, too, Grey. You’re hardly ever here anymore.” Placing his hands on either side of my face, he gives me a quick kiss. “It’s lonely without you.”   
“You’ve changed your face up a bit again, haven’t you?” He sits back up after hearing the question, and I take a good look at him. “Your dimples are more pronounced, and you’ve heightened your cheekbones a little. You’re also leaner than last time. What gives?” He was all broad shoulders and muscle before this. I’m not sure what brought the sudden change upon.   
“Like I said; I’ve been lonely. It’s boring as hell in here, Grey. You can’t keep leaving me behind.” I try to say something, but he thrusts his hand down, showing his index finger into my mouth. “Seriously, man. I’m done staying behind all the time. We’re doing your next job together, no questions asked.”  
Smiling a little, I start sucking on his finger, placing my hands on his hips at the same time. Returning the smile, he bends down to replace the finger with his tongue, and we quickly start discarding our clothes, making a mess of his sheets as well. In half an hour, we both head into his bathroom to take a shower, after which I take the extra outfit I keep in his room. That’s just in case one of the others gets annoying and starts trying to issue a challenge. Oddly enough, they never think to look here.  
“We’ll leave once she gets some sleep,” I tell Johnny. “Be ready in the morning.”  
When I return to my room, I find Erin is already in one of the single beds, one of her legs hanging off it. Her shirt is lifted up slightly, revealing her abdomen.  
Her scar-covered abdomen. No way she got those from any sort of accident. They look like someone dug a few knives into her, but less surgical – less precise. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say she was attacked by a mountain lion. But then that would imply mountain lions had claws big enough to do damage like that. A wraith? Possibly. It would explain why she got all antsy at the mention of the Soul Eater.  
I leave the room again, and head toward the next floor below us. The fortieth is for the Top Ten, and then there’s one below it for a special prisoner of ours. Without him, it wouldn’t be possible to maintain the Tower. He handles everything, from the power running through here, to the indoctrination of new exorcists. Next to Mirra, he’s the closest thing to a boss there is, though he’s technically got no real power over us. If we wanted to, we could just put him down. Lord knows he deserves it. And yet his usefulness keeps us from doing so. The world is cruel, placing more value on those born more competent, and yet all we can do is roll with it. Complaining gets us nowhere.   
The forty-first floor is just one big room, one staircase going up, and another to descend further. The only thing in this all-white room is a little black shadow. It leaves its place in the floor upon noticing me, and floats over to me, an aura of some kind of smoke surrounding its body. I can just vaguely make out two dark eyes and a mouth amidst the smoke and shadow, creeping me out more than he already does. “Hello, Grey.” His voice is high-pitched and childlike, but also slightly distorted, making it sound like multiple people are speaking at the same time. “It has been a while since you last visited me. How may I help you today?”  
“That’s Mr. Four to you, Puck. And you know damn well why I’m here.”  
That black smile widens as he comes closer, some of the smoke leaving him to wrap around me – not that I can feel it. “Ah, yes. You’re looking a little pale. So tricky, mortal magic is. So easy to deplete it all. You really ought to get a better grip on your finances.”  
“When I want an opinion, I’ll ask for it. Now jumpstart my core. I don’t have all day.”  
The spirit giggles a little, a single tentacle of darkness leaving his body and coming up to my chest. “Mammon must be very pleased with you. Of all the exorcists, you are the one to hit zero most often.”   
“Don’t know about that. She never seemed to like me much.” A surge of power hits me, sending chills down my spine. A shock of pain follows, and then my body gets stiff. The cold vanishes slowly, replaced by a warmth coming from inside of me. Looking down, I see my skin is turning grey again, and then Puck giggles again. “All done. The tank has been filled.”   
“Thanks.” I turn around and start walking back toward the staircase, either to get the hell away from here. It’s never a good idea to be near him for very long. Though he has no power to hurt us, he can be a manipulative asshole. Keeps trying to escape, and, well, we can’t well lose the only thing keeping us from losing exorcists left and right. To deplete all of the funds a contract with Mammon gives us is to lose access to her gifts. The magic core inside us grows cold, and Puck is the only one who can warm it back up again.  
“Best of luck on that case in Thorn, Mister Four.”  
I almost hesitate, but force myself to keep walking. So Mirra’s been talking to him. That’s probably why she didn’t seem mad I’d used up all my funds. She wanted to keep me from thinking of her and Puck at the same time. But why? Why not admit it to me? Why even talk to him in the first place? What could the spirit have given her that was important enough to lie to me? If I try asking her now, she’ll feign being busy, and forbid me from entering. Great. Managed to squirm out of it this time. She’ll probably have an excuse ready by the time I return. I’ll just have to press her harder than usual, then.  
I go up all the way to the summoning room and, after nodding to the servants, telling them to leave, I say the same thing I said on the train. “Mammon. Mammon. Mammon.”  
The demon appears just like before – with no warning or flashiness. Still in that same suit, she holds her hand out to me, offering a wink. “Same as usual, I presume?” Twisting her finger downward, she materializes a contract, and lets it hang there. “One million to be paid within the year. No renewals until you fall beneath one thousand. Hit zero and you’re cut off. Try to use magic while you’re at zero, and I’m free to take whatever I want from you.”  
From me. She could pluck out my eyes if she wanted to, proclaiming them a worthy payment. Or she could even take my life. The thing she’s interested in the most, however, is my soul. Good thing we’ve got Puck without us. Without him, I’d’ve been thrown out decades ago.   
“Why so hesitant?” she asks, her black hair turning red as her suit turns white, with only the undershirt remaining black. “You’re not still squeamish, are you?”  
“Not exactly the word I’d use.”  
“Good.” Using one of her razor-sharp nails, she makes a cut at one of her fingertips, then holds it out for me. I lean in and lick the blood, then take the contract from her and sign it.  
“How much?”  
“I just said how much.”  
“Not that.” I wave her off, and she smiles, knowing what’s about to come. “You said I could learn to see the Soul Eater coming. How much would that cost?”   
After she answers, I tell her to go fuck herself, then return to my room and go to sleep. Sheesh. Ain’t no one that much of a sucker. Some things just aren’t worth it.  
I sneak into the room, and immediately get into my bed, clothes and all. I spend a few hours going through the information Michael left behind, a little bit awed that he managed to accumulate so much before being disposed of. Oh, yeah. This is definitely what led to him being killed. No way would our dear president let him get away with this.  
A few hours later, I put the file away and close my eyes. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off, my senses growing numb as my body finally relaxes. Damn. Traveling all the time really does leave a guy with few chances to unwind. It’d be nice to have a home again, I think. But not here. Definitely not here. Maybe find another hill, where the sun shines most days of the year. But snow would be appreciated, too. It’s boring to have a dry winter. Maybe I should head back to the cottage again. Johnny and I haven’t been there in a while.  
I find myself walking next to a highway, an endless desert stretching on either side of it, with a few patches of grass here and there. The moon is big – bigger than I’ve ever seen it before. If I look closely at it, I can just make out the face of someone smiling down at me – and it’s not a pleasant smile. Somehow, the stars are completely gone, leaving the moon as the only thing in the black sky.  
Where am I going? How did I get here? Do I turn back around? Why is it so cold?  
A howl in the distance takes my attention off the moon, and then I hear cackling on the other side of the street. When I look there, I see a hyena sitting, grinning. Its black body makes it hard to see in the dark, but I can tell it’s bigger than they usually are. Another cackle joins it, as a few more golden eyes start peering through the darkness, all focused on me.   
The last cackle comes from right beside me, and when I turn my head toward it, I see a cub there, looking up at me. And then humming. That awful, familiar humming echoes all around me, and the clicking of boots against the pavement follows. As I turn back toward the road ahead, the humming turns to whistling, church bells ringing along with it. Up ahead in the distance, I see him, flying through the night sky, his parasol opened wide. I don’t see him when he lands, but I do notice a building far, far ahead.  
I turn back toward the hyenas, but they’re gone now. An owl zooms past me silently, heading in the same direction I just was. Taking a deep breath, I fight through the cold, and continue walking. The sounds of things squirming around in the desert beyond the dark fill my ears, but I don’t look to see what they are. A few high-pitched squeals, a few hoots, and a few cackles later, I find myself close enough to the building to make out what it is; The castle is ancient, and huge – bigger than any building I’ve seen before, the Tower notwithstanding. The moon is shining beyond it, grinning down at the castle.  
The large entrance opens up, and I see the Grey One step inside, still whistling, bells still ringing. As the door slams shut behind him, it sends a torrent of chilling wind toward me, and I find myself wrapping my arms around me to fight it off. Some of the sand from around me gets tossed into the air, forcing me to shield my eyes.  
And then I hear a cackle, which quickly turns into a sort of whooping sound. When I open my eyes again, the castle and the wind are gone – and so is the road. I look to my right, and see the road all the way to the side, stretching endlessly forward, toward the grinning moon.  
And I see golden eyes moving to put themselves between the road and myself. Without much thought, I start running. Immediately, more whooping sounds come from behind him, followed by snarling and growling. I try to use my magic to move faster, but it’s no use. Nothing happens, despite my attempts. Something snatches the back of my coat, pulling me back. I try to fight it off, but end up abandoning the coat to it, briefly taking note of a hyena jumping over it to get at me.  
As soon as I set foot on the road, the growling vanishes, taking the face of the moon with it. The sands around me rise high into the air, consuming the moon, the road, the hyenas, and me. As the sandstorm closes in, I close my eyes and spread my arms.  
I wake up even more tired than I was before I went to bed, and immediately sit up. Damn. Of all the weird ones I’ve had, that nightmare takes the cake. Why must it always be hyenas? I’m not even particularly afraid of them. A premonition? They aren’t common, even for us exorcists, but it’s still unwise to ignore our dreams. The worst thing about them is that they typically intensify before the exorcist’s death.  
Erin’s snoring can still be heard, so I decide to leave the room, taking note of our suitcases leaning against the closet. Damn. How’s she able to sleep so soundly? It took me decades to get used to sleeping at new places. Before that, I sometimes went a few days without shutting my eyes. I envy how normal people can be sometimes. Seems like such an underappreciated gift.  
As I pass Johnny’s room, I take off one of my gloves and put it on his doorknob, letting him know exactly where I’ll be; I then leave the Tower entirely, going up for some fresh air.  
It’s still night when I step outside, but the moon – thankfully, given the dream – cannot be seen. A flash of lightning in the distance foretells an incoming storm, though thunder doesn’t accompany it. It’s not as cold as it usually gets at this time of year. Some folks even say that’s one of the signs technology has gone too far, and that we’re ruining the planet’s climate. Don’t know about that, but I can say with certainty that winters during my childhood were a hell of a lot colder than they are now.  
Walking around the Tower, I head over to the kindergarten located in the back. It’s too early for most of them to be up, and yet I still see a familiar figure sitting on the front steps, a book almost as large as he is spread across his knees. As he notices me, his pink eyes widen, and he tosses the book away, running toward me. The kid slams into my legs at top speed, but doesn’t say a word.   
He never does.  
“Hey, Joe.” I don’t even know if that’s really his name. Picked him up in some remote village on one of my jobs from half a year ago, and since he was a soulbinder, I was obligated to take him here. It’s as close to a good life as he’s going to get, especially with his eyes and complexion. “You still going through that one?” I nod toward the discarded book, and the boy, stepping back from my legs, nods up at me. Couldn’t even read when I first found him. Luckily, he picked it up pretty fast. It’s the one skill he’s definitely going to need if he’s to find a job anywhere other than the Tower. Mirra doesn’t like me informing him of other opportunities, so I bet she’s having the servants tell the kid how great the place is.  
The boy gestures toward me, then toward the book, and, upon getting a nod, grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward it. We sit down on the steps, and he leans his body into mine, looking at the book as though he’s never seen it before. I cringe a little upon realizing what the book actually is, but I start reading anyway. Though it’s nothing but math equations and theorems, Joe listens intently, a sparkle in his big eyes. Slowly, those eyes start closing, and by the time the sun starts rising, he’s sound asleep.  
I carry him into the kindergarten, trying to be as quiet as possible. There are three empty beds in the main room, so I just set him down on the first one I come across. As soon as he’s down, the boy begins to squirm, reaching out to grab something. I go back outside and get his book, then place it next to him on the bed, gently guiding his hand to touch it. As soon as that happens, he turns to lie on his side and rests his head against the book, thankfully still asleep.  
Leaving the building, I head toward the main entrance to the Tower, and see Erin and Johnny are already there, their stuff packed. He’s already paid Puck a visit, too, to get his skin tone back in gear. “Mirra actually lettin’ you come?”  
Johnny grins, forcing himself to maintain eye contact as he tells the most obvious lie of his life. “I charmed her into letting me.”   
“You know she’s going to kill you, right? That’s pretty much unavoidable right now.”  
“Cross the bridge when we get to it.” Picking up both his and Erin’s stuff, he makes a point of showing me he’s made himself buffer again – the way he was the last time I was here.   
“Thanks.” The girl smiles at him, telling me he’s probably been putting the moves on her. When he puts his mind to it, he really can be a charming bastard. Alas, such a life wasn’t for me. I prefer threatening to skin people alive. My cases have been taking longer ever since Mirra forbade me from doing that. Stupid law.  
“You guys ready?”   
Whereas Johnny’s smile has been practiced to perfection, Erin’s is blatantly nervous. “Yeah. Totally. Can’t wait.”  
Gonna regret those words in a minute, I’d wager.  



	3. Trouble in Thorn

GREY  
Cherry Peaks is pretty much exactly as you might imagine it. Thorn itself is a city surrounded by small mountains, with dozens of little villages scattered across them. Cherry Peaks is situation between two such mountains, a ravine going right down the middle – a safety hazard waiting to rear its ugly head. They’re not in season now, but there are many, many cherry trees here, so I can imagine they’d look spectacular in spring. I wonder how many tourists came to see them, only to fall into that highly peculiar ravine they decided to build their village around.  
“You’re annoyed by the hole, aren’t you?” Johnny offers a small chuckle. “An earthquake split the mountain down the middle, G. Don’t get all huffy about it.”  
“There are literally four houses on that side,” I point out. “They could’ve relocated!” Some people are just asking to be haunted by ghosts of children who’ve fallen into a ravine and died. And there’s even a little wooden bridge off ahead. They are asking for kids to play on it and fall to their deaths. “Let’s just get this over with.”  
It’s not hard to find the cottage of the village’s chief. It’s the only one showing any signs of decoration on the outside, with animal bones hanging from the roof, down to the deck. There are also several symbols engraved around the doorframe, but I doubt they actually do anything. It takes a lot of time to master runes enough to make them usable – time humans don’t have. I walk up to the cottage, then knock.  
A breeze blows through me, then, causing the many chicken bones to rattle. Alright. That was spooky, but that’s as much credit as I’m giving today.  
The door opens, and a short old woman comes out, her hair up in a neat bun. That’s where the modern fashion ends, however, because the rest is all robes, shawls and bones. She’s even got some sort of makeup under her eyes. The most surprising thing is that she looks like one of the Zens, who are even rarer in the country than Erubians. Her dark skin is wrinkled all over, and she appears to just barely be holding herself up.   
“Yes? On with it, boy. I haven’t got all day.”  
Boy? Has she really never heard of an exorcist before? I am probably older than her family line. How dare-  
“Not gonna say anything? Very well. Goodbye, then.” She promptly slams the door in my face, causing Erin and Johnny to chuckle behind my back.  
“Mister Social Skills.”  
“Boy.”   
“If you two don’t stop talking, this will become a one-man job.” I knock on the door again, and the old hag opens it immediately, openly showing she was waiting just on the other side.  
“Yes? Remembered what you were going to say, have you?”  
I cross my arms, scowling down at her. “Haunting activities have been reported in this village. We’re here to investigate.”  
Nodding, the woman looks me up and down, then does the same to Johnny. “They sent two of you? I can’t imagine why. It is merely the ghost of one woman you are here to deal with. It shouldn’t warrant two exorcists.” Smiling in a way a fox might when it sees something amusing, the old bag says, “You’re here to investigate the suspicious activities in the capital, aren’t you?”  
Chills. I have literal chills going down my spine. Who the hell is this bag of bones, and how did she deduce that so quickly? Even an exorcist would take longer, and we all have her beat in terms of experience. I’m starting to have second thoughts about the meaning of those runes.  
The woman chuckles a little, stepping aside to let us enter. “Come, children. No need to be so alarmed. What could an old bag of bones like me do to strapping young men such as you?”  
I…. I didn’t say that part out loud, did I? No, I’m almost a hundred percent sure I didn’t. Something is very wrong here. Who the hell is this old woman? Or what, if I’m being indelicate. Humans cannot read minds. This rule includes soulbinders and exorcists. A spirit might be able to get into your head, same as a wraith. But even among them, it’s rare. It’s taxing, risky business, which few are willing to take part in. When you invade another’s mind, you open yours up for an invasion as well.  
Uneasily, the three of us walk inside, and follow the slow-moving little woman to what I can assume is a religious room. There are symbols all over the walls, and even more bones. Hell, there are even several potions here, and I’m not sure I want to know what they do. Scientists and I rarely get along, which extends to pretend-scientists like witchdoctors and warlocks.   
“You know about the situation in Thorn?” I ask openly, making Johnny wince a little. “No point in hiding it, man. Even a chief of a village as small as this has no authority to stop us.”  
The old lady then “accidentally” slams the foot of her walking stick onto my shoe, almost breaking my toes. I do my best to look inexpressive. Owie. “Yes, I know about Thorn. The president hasn’t done much of a job of keeping things a secret. Thinks the exorcists are his only worry. Bah! That Michael fellow nearly brought the whole web down on his own.”   
“The web?” She knew Michael. That’s the worrying part. If Michael was here, then the situation isn’t just contained to Thorn. I just wonder if it’s only spread to the surrounding villages, or the country as a whole.   
“Oh, yes. President Richards is increasing his influence in the country even further.”  
“He’s the president,” Erin points out. “How much more power can he have?”  
“Your old boss was a mayor,” I remind her. “Didn’t stop him from getting into bed with a soulbinder who wanted to destroy an entire city.” She did it because of a lie, too. “Not even the president is allowed to break the country’s laws. He’s trying to change them, then, for which he’ll need many, many votes.”  
The old lady nods, smiling again. “I like you, lad. Much sharper than Michael. Tell me, though; How would he increase the number of votes he needs?”  
“Reducing the population of minorities,” Johnny answers in my stead. “That’s what Xibalba was targeted, I bet. The mayor took orders from the president, and then fed the soulbinder woman’s anger, directing her toward Xibalba. Destroy the city, kill all the Nuka living there, and reduce the number of votes who oppose Richards.”   
I pout at him, but he simply shrugs, mouthing an apology.   
“Wait, wait,” Erin interjects. “For the president to do something like that…. I think you guys are reaching a bit. I mean, he is the one who ended the Xing’s slave trade, right? Wouldn’t a guy like that typically be progressive?”   
“They didn’t just enslave their own. The Xing family kidnapped people of all races. Since Dextrians are the most common people in the country, they were the most frequent targets, too. And they were the only ones who made the headlines.”  
Johnny snorts. “And then the masses ate it all up. He had just liberated their own countrymen, after all.”   
The old woman, looking at each of us as we speak, smiles through it all. “Well, I’ll be. I spent all these years thinking this a hopeless cause, and yet here you are, connecting the dots at breakneck speeds.” Offering a small chuckle, she reaches into one of her pockets, and pulls out a talisman similar to mine – a wooden circle with a symbol carved into it. “But there is one thing you’re all mistaken about.”   
I cross my arms, looking down at her. “And what’s that? Seems like we’ve got all the bases covered to me.”   
“Except for the fact that you’ve put too much faith in the president’s competence. He is but a figurehead of the web – the big spider placed on top, to satisfy the prying eyes of those smart enough to see the web in the first place.”  
“You’re saying someone’s pulling his strings?” That’s hard to imagine. Seems a bit like a fairytale. The president – the man with the most power in the country – has little to fear from anyone else. His personal guard is with him at all times, and he’s got military weapons powerful enough to wipe whole cities off the map. I don’t see who could threaten him. “Forget it. He’s got too much power to be pushed around.”   
The old woman nods slowly, her turkey neck dangling, making me cringe just a little. “You’re looking at it all wrong. Threatening someone is not the best way to get them to cooperate. The truly dangerous ones use subtler methods.”   
“Manipulation?” Erin offers. “Someone’s tricking him into doing it?”   
“But that would mean they were offering him something,” adds Johnny. “What could one offer a man who has everything?”   
“Bah! Not everything.” The old woman places the talisman onto the small, old table beside her, then lifts up a red candle. “He has money and power, sure – and a beautiful, young wife to boot – but he is human. Magic is not something he is capable of. And so he fears what all men fear.” Tilting the candle slightly, she allows a drop of wax to fall onto the talisman, which catches fire immediately, making me take a step back. The fire is green, which is unusual in itself, but it’s also taking a strange shape – as if petals are unfurling themselves to revealing something hidden beneath. “Death. President Richards is mortal. Exorcists are not. That is why he hates you so. You have an escape from the thing burdening all men. Such strong feelings would make him very susceptible indeed.”   
The green fire suddenly goes out, a black smoke coming out of it. The smoke starts slithering through the air until it forms a circle, with whiter smoke filling out the middle. Amidst the white smoke, a new shape starts appearing – a symbol of some kind. It’s a simple spiral, with the lines a bit blurry and uneven, as though it was drawn in a hurry. It isn’t something I recognize.  
“Religion?” I venture a guess. “He’s doing it because of some sort of cult?” So many of them have made the claim of attaining immortality that just trying to remember them all is a headache. None were correct. Some did deceive their members for different purposes, but the truly dangerous ones were the believers. If you are doing your god’s work, then you are always right. Doesn’t matter if the god isn’t real, because he is to the believer. Everything is your lord’s plan. Everything, no matter how amoral, is allowed, if it serves his purpose.   
The old lady nods, the symbol in the fire twisting into a different shape – a wide, sharp-toothed smile. “An old god, worshipped before this civilization was even a thought. The worship of him is as nasty as they come. Blood sacrifice, rape, mutilation, offerings…. His followers would do anything to earn his favor, for he is the only eternal certainty in the universe.”   
Hold on. “You lost me with that last bit. Is? What do you mean, is? Gods don’t exist.” Before Johnny can say anything, I quickly add, “If they do, they don’t show themselves to humans. If this evil god did approach his followers, then they were just being tricked by a demon. Maybe even a powerful magician. Either way, the promises made to them are hollow.”  
The old woman, now frowning, sticks her hand into the smoke, dispersing it. “Normally, I would have to agree. But this particular creature…. You cannot begin to fathom how dangerous he is. He has made worlds rise and fall. Entire armies used to flee at the mention of his name. Kings would beg him to take their throne, lest they risked offending him. The Mad King of the Fae is not one you should speak of lightly. Or at all, using his real name.”  
Okay, she’s losing me completely now. Just the ramblings of some crazy old woman. Being aware of the president’s shifty nonsense is not the same as knowing the truth. Anyone who lives here could’ve seen something relating to the things he’s doing. It doesn’t confirm the existence of some ancient evil. “Got anything concrete for us? If not, just tell us about the haunting in this village. We’ll take care of it and be on our way.”   
Erin shoots me a dirty look, while Johnny just looks nervous. The old woman sighs, putting out the candle with her fingers. “Whether you believe it or not is irrelevant, I suppose. You are here to stop the president’s misdeeds, so I suppose I will share what I know.” She shrugs slowly, her shoulders creaking as she does. “Nothing.”   
“What!?”  
“Nothing. I know nothing about the specifics of his plans. I don’t know who else is involved. I don’t know who is manipulating him. I know what I have told you. Now I tell you the same thing I told Michael when he visited; Go to the Library of Thorn. There, you might find some answers. I got the tidbit of information from a traveler who stayed here one night. I do not know what it means, but I do know Michael was quite frightened by what he found there. As for the haunting of this village….”   
Slowly, she gestures to herself, and I nearly choke on my own spit. In an instant, all the candle in the cottage go out, and since there are now windows inside this room, total darkness falls upon us.  
“Don’t move!” I tell the others. “Stay where you are so I don’t hit you.” Extending my sleeve as far as it will go, I slash through one of the walls, allowing a bit of sunlight in. Once we can see the interior of the room again, we see the old lady is gone. Despite not making a single sound in the darkness.  
Holy shit. That was a spirit? Were we actually conversing with a spirit? How?! They aren’t intelligent enough to do the things she did. Most of them just rumble incoherently, occasionally moving things around. The strongest ones can kill, but it never goes beyond that. Spirits do not speak the way people do. It just doesn’t happen.  
“That’s bad,” Johhny says, and we head back outside. “That’s not something that should exist.”   
“What do you mean?” Erin asks, and winds up getting the aforementioned lesson in spirituality. “Oh. Well, what if she’s not a spirit, then?”  
I stop walking, turning to look at her out on the front porch. “What?”  
“Well, I mean, magicians can do all sorts of stuff, right? What if she’s one? Couldn’t she just teleport away?”  
Right. Mortals have no idea what magic actually does. Few of them actually know it’s not the same as soulbinding, and even fewer know the limits. The contract with Mammon, for one, is completely foreign to all but our assistants. “No. Magic doesn’t work like that.”   
Johnny gives me a weird look, but I just blink twice at him – our secret signal to be quiet. Erin’s right on the money, I suspect. I can weaponized black, just as Lea can green, but that’s not all our magic does. Color is always involved, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a weapon. Some, for instance, can use colors as portals, and simply walk from one place to another without any regard for the space in between. The thought that an old lady who is completely unrelated to the Tower could do that is less than soothing.   
“Well, if she’s not actually hurting anyone on the village, we can head to the library. Not like we’ve got anything else to do.”  
And so we walk to the city, which really is just next to the village. No border patrol at all, making it so any pedestrian can just stroll right inside. No wonder it’s overrun with the homeless. There’s not much stopping them from just entering and staying.  
The streets of the city are ridiculously crowded. Everyone’s in a rush, pushing each other to get where they need to be. There’s also smoke and steam going up into the air from every large building I can see, creating an unnatural cloud that blocks out most of the sun. The air smells like shit, and so do many of the people we walk by, their faces tainted by soot. I immediately make up my mind about not liking this place. I didn’t like it the last time I was here, and I don’t like it now.  
A few people immediately take note of Simon’s and my skin, then do their best to back off. I’m guessing the police will approach us before long. Mr. Richards will not appreciate having us in his city.  
When we get to the library, we find two guards standing in front. Great. Please don’t tell me we should’ve called ahead.  
I approach them, and they immediately move to get in my way. “The library is closed for the day, sir.”  
Lovely. “And why is that?”  
One of them, sneering at me, replies, “That’s none of your business, sir. Civilians shouldn’t concern themselves with the affairs of the police force.”   
“Good thing I’m not a civilian.” I take a step forward, and one of them reaches for something at his belt. I doubt it’s a gun. Pepper spray or taser, most likely. “Sir, please step back. You have no authority here.”   
“Says who?” If they don’t get out of the way in the next ten seconds, bones will break.  
“Says the chief of Thorn’s police.” The sneering one gives me an annoyed look. “He’s expressly forbidden anyone but the police to enter. It’s dangerous, you see. An exorcist died in there recently.”   
Aha. A subtly un-subtle threat. How lovely. “Your chief’s authority does not exceed mine, especially because my colleague is the one who was murdered. Step aside now, officers, and I won’t have you detained.”  
The sneering guard opens his mouth, but the other one, looking much more laid back, is the one who speaks. “You know, it’s probably for the best if you spoke to the chief about it first.” The sneering one glares at the bored guard, but the latter pays it no mind. “might even permit you to leave. He’s a lenient man, our chief.”  
In other words, he’s aware his partner is a jackass, but isn’t willing to risk his job over it. Fine, then. “And where might I find this chief of yours?”  
Erin leaves in to whisper in my ear. “The station, you idiot.” Right, yeah.  
“I’ll be back,” I say to the sneering guard, who simply scoffs at me, no doubt waiting until we’re gone, so he can berate his partner for the perceived treachery.   
The station, as it turns out, is on the other side of the city. “Those sons of bitches.” They really got me this time.  
“What do you mean?” Erin asks.  
“Playing the good cop-bad cop routine, so that the good cop can send us all the way here, across the huge city, and waste three hours of our time. More if we hadn’t taken the trolley. Now, I’m betting, the chief will be gone when we enter.”  
Lo and behold, I am met with a fully ready receptionist upon entering. Not a cop, either, though she does look experienced and professional, all suit and tie. “Hello, Miss. I’d like to talk to Thorn’s chief of police, please.”   
The answer, predictably, shoots out of her mouth at rehearsed speeds. “Unfortunately, the chief is unavailable today. Would you like me to deliver a message?”  
“Don’t do it,” Johnny whispers, hands on my shoulders. “Don’t do it, man. We don’t need the trouble.”  
“Michael is dead. Trouble’s already coming.”   
“But the president – he’s not a guy we want to challenge openly. That’ll give him cause to mobilize the army.” Which would be bad even for the Tower. Even if we could win, the cost would be too heavy to have been worth it, especially if there’s a bigger bad hiding behind Richards.  
Reluctantly, I nod at the woman, doing away with my plan of tearing the building down. “Please do so as quickly as possible. It’s urgent. A friend of mine is missing, and he might be dead soon.”   
Johnny snorts behind me, already knowing where I’m going with this. We’ve already done it thirty or so years ago. He hates being the vic. The woman at the desk is also unconvinced, narrowing her cold, brown eyes. “If it is so urgent, you may tell any officer. They’ll be right on it.”  
I won’t insult her intelligence by pretending this is anything but a lie, so I just use a flat, bored tone. “He was kidnapped two days ago. The kidnapper made contact with me. They demand ransom. I am not to talk to anyone but the chief of Thorn’s police. Please contact him immediately.”   
“Yeah,” Johnny adds, pretending to speak to Erin. “If it goes public that the chief ignored an urgent case like this, it would be really, really bad for him, and the president who elected him.”   
The woman, looking bored with us, just barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Filing a false report is a felony, sir.”  
I smile brightly. “Which is why I’d never do anything of the sort. Please tell your boss to get his ass over here. I’d hate for the name of such a respectable man to be dragged through the mud.”   
Sighing, she holds her finger up. “One minute, sir.” She goes to the other end of her little coupe, and silently speaks on the phone. When she turns back around, there’s a small glimmer in her eyes. Uh-oh. Back-up came in handy. “The chief would like to inform you that there has been a number of prank calls of similar nature in recent time, and as such, cannot neglect his current duties for a case that might not be real. It would be a horrible waste of time. Would you like to present proof of the kidnapping’s existence?”   
Fuck. Me. They’re really going to make me go all the way with this one. “I don’t have it with me.”  
Smiling softly, the woman says, “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to come back at another time, when the chief isn’t this busy. Of course, he almost always is these days.”   
“I see.” You nasty cunt. “We’ll be back later, then.”   
As we leave the station, Johnny rubs his shoulder against mine. “We really doing it? We’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do at the end. Mirra won’t like it, either.”   
“Do what?” Erin asks.  
“Yeah. We have no choice. They killed Michael, and won’t hesitate to do the same to us. We’re not holding back on this one. If it comes to it, we even kill.” Erin gasps a little as she hears that last bit, but Johnny merely sighs.   
“I hate being kidnapped.”  
I turn to smile at him. “But you’re so good at it!”  
One shopping trip later, we find ourselves in one of the city’s many dark alleys, completely away from the traffic. Thank god for the suburbs. I would hate having to waste money on a hotel room just for this. Johnny gives the performance of a life time, while I simply speak through a black cloth on my face, distorting my voice as I recite the lines. Erin just scowls at us with disapproval, though it’s clear she’s impressed by the idea.  
“You two know this is illegal, right?”  
“So’s murder,” I point out. “They don’t want us in that library, so that’ exactly where we should go. Whatever the hell is in there was worth starting a war with the Black Tower over, so it’s gotta be pretty damn big.”  
The girl crosses her arms, looking away. “Fine, but keep me out of it. I wasn’t a witness or anything.”  
“Fine. But stay right outside the station. We don’t need you getting kidnapped.”  
“So I’m gonna be targeted just because I’m a girl? I can handle myself, Grey.”  
“No,” I reply sharply, “you can’t. You’re human, and you’re unarmed. Richards can send anyone to get rid of you. He’s got to at least get creative with us.” A trap might do us in, though it would have to be well-executed. Bullets are too easy to block or dodge, just like explosives. Poison would be my choice, but that means he’d have to get us to consume something. A gas would be too conspicuous, and it might kill innocent bystanders, revealing to the public that something is up.  
“Um, guys,” Johnny speaks up, and we both turn to look at him. “The recorder was still rolling.”  
“God fucking damn it. Let’s take it from the top!”  
Unfortunately, by the time we return to the station, it’s already closed. Great. Who the hell handles the nighttime calls, then? I’m not spending money on a bloody hotel room. Erin’s running on the last tidbits of energy, and Johnny and I aren’t far behind. It’s true we don’t technically need to sleep, but it’s still appreciated.   
We make our way to the nearest park, and decide to camp out on the benches there. Erin, looking exhausted, goes off to a different one to lie down on it. One wouldn’t expect it to be very comfy, but it’s enough to have her snoring within ten minutes’ time. Damn, girl. Not a primadonna, then.  
“She’s easy to get along with,” Johnny says, inclining toward her with his chin. “Don’t see what you complain so much about.”  
Sitting back, I cross my legs, staring up at one of the streetlights. “She’s human, J. She’s not able to fight the things we fight, and I can handle my paperwork just fine.”   
I can feel him pouring all of his positive vibes into me – making my skin crawl. “Is it about Amanda?”  
I turn to glare at him immediately, but he doesn’t back down. “Don’t.”   
“It wasn’t-“  
“Do. Not.” I know all the bullshit he’s going to tell me already. Wasn’t my fault. It couldn’t have been stopped. These things happen. She knew the risk. “My assistant’s safety is my responsibility. She wasn’t safe. I failed.” And the wraith tore her apart. It happened well after the Erubian massacre, and yet even compared to that, the screams stand out in my memory. A human can live for a very long time after being gravely injured. Their bodies refuse to give out, clinging to hope of survival even when there isn’t one. It’s a cruel and twisted fate, and I don’t plan to take it on again. “She’s not even a quarter of a century old, J. She’s not even a toddler compared to us. She shouldn’t throw her life away when she’s so young.”   
“Maybe it’s worth risking her life for?” I glare at him again as he says then, and he raises his hands in surrender. “She told me about the Grey Man – how she plans on being there when he dies. Hate’s a strong motivator, G. You know that better than I.”  
“Yes, I do.” I was the one on the frontlines, after all. J had run away. “Drop this. After this case is done, I’m going to break one of her legs and scare her into retirement. Don’t try to interfere.”   
“Ever thought about just talking to her about it?” He snorts shortly after the question. “But I guess that would require opening up. Heavens forbid you should do that.”   
“I have you. That’s enough.”  
“I may not be around forever, G. We’re working a case that got Two killed. Don’t forget that.”  
“I didn’t.” Though I still find myself clenching my fist. Johnny can’t die. He’s the one constant in my life that I can rely on. Everything else changes. Cities come and go. People die. Families go extinct. Even the damn weather is permanently changing. Johnny, on the other hand, is eternal. He’ll be there whenever I turn to look. “And they didn’t, either.”  
“Yeah, looks like it.” He looks around a bit, fingering the pebbles in his pocket. “I count six.”   
“Seven,” I correct, eyeing the girl approaching us. “The timing’s too good, don’t you think?”   
“Howdy, ya’ll,” the girl introduces herself, tipping her white cowboy hat. She looks like a bride who just had a mental breakdown, the fabric of her white dress flying all over the place. Hell, her pantyhose is torn up, too, and her hair is wild an unkempt. “You didn’t happen to see a tall, handsome fella walk by, did’cha? I’m lookin’ for my boo.”   
Yikes. I don’t know what to complain about first: the manic look in her eyes, the too-wide grin, or the gun she’s failing to conceal behind her back. “Sorry, Miss. Haven’t seen anyone.”  
“Are ya sure?” She leans in a little, one of her arms twitching. The others are most likely waiting for the counterattack. That’s when we’ll be vulnerable to them. I spoke first, so I’m the one who’ll strike, while Johnny covers our backs. Simple enough to pull off, and yet complex enough for mortals not to get adjusted. They age and die before they can. “I know he’s here somewhere. He didn’t happen ta have that floozy Heather with ‘im, did ‘e? Why, that would drive me so nuts, I might just go on and shoot ‘is cheatin’ ass.”   
“Men are swine.” I nod at her, letting Johnny know the action starts in five seconds. “The ones with you included.”   
The girl’s eyes flash dangerously as she jumps back, pulling the shotgun out. My sleeve is faster, grabbing it and aiming it at the guy in the tree behind us. The girl shoots, and the loud bang quickly gets replaced by the screaming of the poor bastard who just lost a piece of him. As he falls out of the tree, the others realize the jig is up, and go full on with the attack.  
As they jump out of their hiding spots, Johnny tosses four pebbles in all directions, and then they magically grow in size, until they’re larger than we are. Ducking down, we let the boulders take care of the gunfire, which continues without pause for at least ten seconds.  
“Hold it!” the girl from before yells. “Get their friend.”  
Before anything else can happen, Johnny slams his palm against the boulder before us, sending it rolling forward. The crazy bride, by some miracle, manages to jump out of the way before it can hit us, and I spot a few throwing knives in her hand. With a grin, she tosses them forward, but I’m faster, extending my hat out in the shape of a propeller, then having it twirl around to block them all. Johnny throws out the remaining three boulders, then shouts out, “Three left!”   
Taking his word for it, I start running toward Erin, who’s now standing on her feet, hesitating to run away. The crazy bride heads for her, too, throwing herself at my feet to try and knock me down. I simply jump, then use her back as a platform to push myself further ahead. I get to Erin and extend my coat out as a shield just before more bullets come toward us. They’re unable to pierce my black, thank god.  
“You okay?” I ask, and she just barely manages to nod. “This will be messy. You better not look.” The ones hit by the boulders are dead without a doubt. I’ve seen what J’s attack power does more than enough times to know that.  
Turning around, I push Erin back, eyeing the two remaining opponents. One of them is a man wearing all black, covering his head as well, and the other is the crazy bride, her hat now gone. Still, she’s got five more daggers on her, and a gun tucked into one of her pink boots.  
“Aww, you’re a cutie,” she tells me, blowing a kiss to go with it. “A shame you’re about to meet yer maker.”   
“A talker, huh? They’re always the most annoying.” I slam my coat forward, shaping it into a scythe held by a chain. The girl, who’s got to be around Erin’s age, twirls backward ninja-style, completely avoid my attack. Her friend isn’t so lucky, crouching down as Johnny throws a pebble at him. The pebble, once above him, simply enlarges itself, and then gravity does the rest. I hear Erin choke behind me, after which she starts puking. Great. I did tell her not to look.  
I try attacking again, but the girl is jumping around like a damn pro, not letting me land a scratch. “J, a little help here!” While she’s no threat, given her limited attack power, she’s probably stronger than any mortal I’ve met. Had she gone with a better plan, she might’ve had us. Is she the one who took Michael down, then? Can’t be that many people skilled enough to pull it off, even if it was a trap.   
Johnny slams his fist against the ground, and the entirety of the area around us begins to shake. The streetlights swing back and forth, along with the trees, as the magnitude of the attack rises. Once the earthquake fully sets in, all of us are struggling to remain standing – particularly the bride, who was in the process of doing a hand stand. She falls down right on her face, and my blade slams down into her.  
Or it would’ve, if not for the black hand appearing out of nowhere to swat it away. People start turning their lights on all around us, and then I hear the police sirens breaking through the silence, the cars on their way to break this up.  
The bride flips me off, sticking her tongue out at the same time, then turns to run away with whoever the hell that was that saved her. I can’t make them out because of the darkness provided by the trees over there, but there’s no way they’re human. To dodge my attack is one thing, but to block it entirely…. Not even all exorcists can do that.  
“We were never here!” I yell out, picking Erin up and running as fast as I can, trusting Johnny to catch up, which he does swiftly. “If we get caught now, they’ll use it as a reason to detain us, and forbid us from any further investigating in Thorn!”  
“Where to, then?” J asks as we turn the corner, the police sirens getting quieter and quieter. Erin clings to me as hard as she can, her whole body shaking. Yeah, I’d be shaky if I was woken up by gunfire, too.   
In the end, we simply stop once we’re on a regular street, where there are still a few people loitering around. They won’t risk another attack like that. Not because of compassion for the bystanders, of course, but because that’s the logical thing to do. They’ve lost six men to it, and yielded no results. They won’t be able to mobilize another such an attack before dawn comes. They’ve blundered, and the night is wasted. We get to live to see another day.  
“You saw that thing?” I ask, and Johnny nods. “Couldn’t have been human.”  
“It wasn’t. I was closer to it, so I got a good look. G, it was a wraith.”  
My head snaps in his direction instantly. “What did you say?”  
“The thing that saved the chick was a wraith. No doubt about it. It ran off on all fours, and it was a lot bigger than a human. It looked all slimy and reptilian. No way it wasn’t a wraith.”   
“But that’s….” Wraiths are random and unpredictable, aside from their fear of exorcists. They don’t speak, eat or sleep. They most definitely don’t go around saving people – or making alliances for that matter. “They can’t be bound.”  
“Well, clearly no one told that thing that. It was a wraith, G. I’m sure of it.”   
Fucking hell. First a talking spirit, and now a wraith that’s allied itself with someone. The state of the Thorn was greatly understated. These things that shouldn’t exist in nature are now real, and they’re walking around. The spirit lady, at the very least, appears to be on our side, but the wraith and the loco bride definitely are not. “Johnny, what the fuck do we do?”  
He takes a shaky breath, looking Erin over, and says, “I think we should just do our job as best we can. I mean, if we can’t do it, no one can, and the Black Tower will be screwed. They don’t keep this restricted to the city forever, I think. If they’ve found a way to bind wraiths to their will, they will use them to attack.”  
“Them? It’s crazy enough to think they’ve got one on their side. We shouldn’t jump to any crazy conclusions. It could just be a unique, independent wraith. Could be an irregularity. It might not be as bad as we’re thinking.” We, not him. I can definitely see it becoming a reality. It’s something exorcists are taught early on. We are here to liberate souls and enlist soulbinders into our ranks specifically so they can’t be weaponized. A single wraith or spirit can do a lot of damage, yes, but it’s rare, and it’s limited. It’s like an earthquake; It happens once in a while, then goes away for a long time. The case is not the same with war. When a war starts, it can last for a very, very long time, and it usually keeps growing. The First Great War quite literally encompassed the entire world, and cut humanity’s population in half. Now, add beings as dangerous as wraiths to it, and you’ve got a recipe for extinction.   
“Fine. Have you seen an intelligent one before?” I shake my head. Of course not. No one has. Wraiths are spirits of soulbinders who’ve had their rationality taken away. They are inherently incapable of coherent thought. Their only drive is destruction. Rabid dogs, if you will. They don’t stop to think – they just bite.  
The rustling of the trashcans beside us takes my mind off of the situation, and I turn to see what’s there. I regret it immediately.  
The creature, whatever the hell it is, is as large as a grizzly bear, though much skinnier. Standing on all four, unnaturally long legs, it looks like a mix of an insect and a reptile. It’s skin is a mix of grey and green, and there’s ooze coming out of it, making it glisten against the light coming from behind it. The eyes – if you can call them that – are vertically blinking, and doing so rapidly, the two irises in them fidgeting all over the place. Instead of a mouth, it has a small patch of tentacles, ending in hairy tips. Those tentacles are continuously moving against one another, slowly pointing in my direction. The creature has no hair to speak of, and its head is completely bald too, with no ears to be found anywhere.  
It takes a little sniff of the air, then pulls its head back. The three of us recoil as the being releases a high-pitched mix of a roar and a squeal, a certain nasal sound to it. As soon as the sound dies down, the monster comes running toward us. I thrust my coat out toward it, forming a wall between in and us, and the thing slams into it with its whole body. “Is that it!?”  
“No, it must be some different wraiths that’s after us!” Johnny screams back, already holding two pebbles. “How did it follow us!?”  
“The hairs on its nose!” Erin says, surprising me with the fact that she was calm enough to take note of that. “Some animals sense the world through their hairs. It must have a great sense of smell.”  
The thing, still pounding on the wall of shadows, is making some sort of gurgling sound. “It’s not particularly strong. No special technique either, like Solaris has. I don’t think this is a wraith, guys.”   
Johnny disagrees. “What the fuck can it be, then!?”  
“A wraith would have the remnants of the soulbinder’s power. This thing can’t do anything but charge at us. It’s not intelligent after all.”   
“If you’ve got another explanation, I’m all ears, man. Just get to it quickly.”   
“Not the time for theorizing, guys. Just make it dead!”  
“As m’lady commands.” I let the wall fall down, and the monster steps over it with another screech. Spikes then come rising out of the fallen cloth, impaling the creature with little difficulty. And by that, I mean it offers absolutely no resistance. It just twitches a few times, then dies, going fully limp. “Unusually easy. Makes me kind of nervous.”  
The thing then melts away. As in, it turns into a big stinkin’ pile of goo, soaking my entire coat. The stench of it is vomit-inducing, and Erin does just that. Jesus Christ. Wraiths do not leave a scent like this behind. What the fuck was that?  
“J, I’m starting to think the president may be up to something.”  
“Too tired for jokes. Make another and I’ll kick your teeth in.”  
“Do we just keep moving until the police station opens?” He opens his mouth to say something, then freezes, as if realizing something.  
“Oh, no.”  
“Don’t you give me bad news now, man. I could use some hope here.”  
“The reason they had shooters come at us instead of silent assassins….”   
“Don’t fuckin’ say it, man,” I add, also realizing what he’s about to tell me.  
“The station will be closed, saying they’re busy working the scene of the crime with six bodies there. We’re not gonna be getting to him tomorrow. They’re buying themselves another night – and another chance to come at us. Man, why’d you take me on this job, anyway?”  
“You invited yourself!” Erin snaps, making him twitch away from her. “Know what we do now, guys? We go find a nice hotel room, so that I can take a bloody shower, and then we get the fuck out of here and get reinforcements.”   
“Ooooooor….” She turns to glare at me as I speak up. “Now, this is just a theory, buuuut…. What if they’re so desperate to attack us because they’re vulnerable?”  
Johnny sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “Not another animal analogy.”  
“A cornered rat will bite the snake. They’ve sent seven hitmen and a monster at us. That is not a warning shot. They’re going all out. Means it won’t be that hard to find out what they’re doing in the library.”  
“Don’t say it, man.”  
“We should screw the law and just break in. If they’re this desperate to push us away from it, then it won’t take us long to find whatever is inside.” I grin as brightly as I can, the two glaring daggers at me. “Brilliant, innit?”  
“Fuck off!”  
Outvoted, I am forced to follow them to the nearest hotel we can find, after which we take turns showering, to get the stink of that goo the hell away from us. Obviously, as soon as I’m done, the doorbell to the room rings. Erin ignores it, somehow able to sleep after what should be a traumatic experience. She simply stirs a bit on her armchair, then turns the other way.  
Johnny and I look at one another, and he says, “Ten queens it’s another assassin.”  
I groan, knowing he’s probably right. Seriously? Again, already? Why not give us a goddamn break?  
When neither of us approaches the door, it gets kicked open, and another masked man jumps in. I sent a sharpened shard of cloth through his skull, and he falls down before he can fire his gun. Erin jumps up from her armchair, looks around the room, then groans. “We have to move again, don’t we?”  
So that’s what we do. And before we can reach another hiding spot, the sun rises on a new day, hopefully putting us out of that level of danger. That last thing was not even an attempt. They just wanted to keep us from resting. Does that mean our dear Mr. president has no idea exorcists can function without sleep, as long as we’re not at zero?  
When I relay these thoughts to Johnny, he looks mildly amused. “He’s got all the knowledge of the country at his disposal.”  
“Yeah, he’s got the power to attain it. That’s what’s making him so arrogant.”   
“If he’s the one who ordered the hits,” Erin adds, and us two exorcists freeze. “You did think of that, right? The president’s pretty smart. I don’t think this would’ve come from him. If he’s openly against the Tower, he knows what exorcists can do. Maybe it was someone else.”  
“That-“ I point my finger at her. “-is the smartest thing I’ve heard said all day. Good work, assistant.”   
“Call me Erin.”   
“Nonsense. You’ve earned the title of assistant now.” Johnny gives me a smirk when I say it, but I don’t bother commenting. “Wear the badge with pride.”  
“The heart does tremble.” And apparently, so does the stomach, going by the noise hers just made. “Any chance there’s a pastry shop open by now?”  
I look up at a large watch right there on the street, then nod. “Winter’s coming, so the nights are getting longer. It’s past six already. They should be open.”  
We find the nearest one so the girl can eat, then proceed with the original plan, getting to the police station in a hurry. As predicted, there is a note taped to the front.  
I rip it off and read, “We regret to inform you that, because of sudden and unforeseen events regarding the safety of the citizens of Thorn, the police force will be busy handling an urgent matter, and will be unavailable for non-emergencies. In case of an emergency, use the emergency number available to all citizens.”  
I crumble the paper up, then throw it aside. “Well, we’re fucked. I’m at a loss here.”   
Erin, leaning forward to peek through the glass door, does the unthinkable and tries the doorknob. And it opens, letting us enter.   
“How’d you know that would work?” Johnny asks.  
“Well, the chief doesn’t want us laying eyes on him. If we can talk to him, he’s got to let us enter the library. That’s the rule they’re playing by. That means he’ll be somewhere where an exorcist can’t find him. You know, like a closed police station.”  
J and I look at each other, thoroughly impressed, then follow the girl inside. The receptionist is there again, and gets annoyed as soon as she sees us. “You three are trying to make me lose my job, aren’t you? Admit it. That’s the endgame here.”  
“Not so.” I hold my hand up, and hear shuffling behind one of the closed doors near us. “Mind terribly if we take a peek in there?”  
“This is the police station. You have no-“  
“I have every authority. This isn’t the scene of an exorcist’s murder, remember? Your chief can’t forbid me from being here for the sake of my safety, can he?”  
She flinches a little, avoiding eye contact. “Look, if I let you through, I might lose more than my job. Things have been happening here lately. Bad things.”  
“Mind explaining?” The movement of my shirt lets her know I am not really asking, and so she goes on with the answer.   
“The president’s loudest political enemies have started dying like flies. Minorities are being treated more harshly than normal. Last week, some Nuka kid got shot for refusing to take out his ID. In a Nuka temple. These are shit times, and I’ve got enough shit on my plate already. So please.…” Her voice cracks just a little, making me feel bad – just a little. “Please don’t make me do this. He’ll use it as an excuse to kill me.”  
Johnny and I smile at one another. “So, you’re saying you feel your life is in danger? And that the chief of police – your boss – is the cause?”  
Her eyes widen, but Johnny speaks up before she can. “Sounds like that to me. We really better bring the man in, then, Grey. You know – for her safety. It’s the least we can do for her.”  
“N-No, please don’t-“  
“Give that emergency number a call, J. We better inform the police station that they’re harboring a fugitive. It won’t do to have him hide within their ranks. They’re lives could be in danger!”  
“I never meant-“  
“We really ought to put the city on lockdown, too. Just to prevent him from escaping. And we ought to put out a curfew, too. Citizens really aren’t safe in times like these.”  
The door – the one behind which we heard rustling a minute ago – slams open, and a tall, well-muscled man in his forties walks out, eyes partially closed. He carries himself with a lot of pride, wearing a blue uniform. His shoulders are almost too wide for the doorframe, and he actually does lean to the side a bit as he walks out. “I think you’ve annoyed my assistant quite enough, gentlemen. Marissa, please go take your break now.”  
The woman, now crying, starts sputtering excuses at him. “Sir, I didn’t mean to…. They gave me no choice! I don’t even know-“  
“Stop the act, dear. I’ve confirmed their situation. They are alright. You have no need to fear them.”  
Just like that, the assistant stops crying. She wipes her eyes away with precise, methodic movements, then straightens up, saluting the man. “I’ll go have my coffee then, sir. Would you like one?”  
The man shakes his head, then gestures toward the rest of us. “How about one of you? Nothing like one of her pots to start the day.” Johnny and I exchange a weary look, prompting the man to chuckle. “I promise it won’t be poisoned. I won’t insult you by trying to kill you in such an obvious fashion. Marissa, make that three coffees for our friends, please.”  
“We ain’t your friends, pal.”  
The man raises a brow at me, smiling with slight amusement. “Well, what else does one call people who are fighting for the same cause?”  
Johnny and I exchange another look, our mouths slightly agape now. “Come again?”  
“Ah, right. You exorcists have been kept out of this one so far. Too many rotten eggs among you. Marissa and I are leading a secret force with the purpose of overthrowing president Richards.” He says it so calmly, it’s almost hard to tell if he’s serious. “Now, would you like some bagels with that coffee?”  
I hold my hand out toward him, and the fingertips of my glove shoot out as elongated talons. Neither the chief nor his assistant flinch as they come to rest against his throat. “Should you really be saying something like this in broad daylight?”  
“Who is here to hear? The station is closed. For that very reason, naturally.”  
I eye him carefully, looking for anything – any twitch of his eyes, any shuffling of his feet, or reddening of his cheeks – any sign that he might be lying – and I come out empty. But, then again, calm types like him are the best liars there are. Them and overly charming people. “You can’t really expect me to believe that.”  
The man winks at me, and I suddenly feel metal pressing against my temple – the barrel of a gun, held by Marissa. “If we wanted you dead, it would have happened by now.”   
“To one of us, sure,” I respond. “The remaining exorcist would kill you, of course. Such a stunt isn’t near good enough to convince me.”   
“But I bet I know what is,” the chief says, reaching behind his back with one arm, while holding the other up. I press my talons in a bit harsher, and Marissa does the same with her gun. When the arm is back within eyesight, a key is dangling from it. “How about we take a trip to the library? I myself have only yesterday obtained the key. We can solve the mystery of Michael’s death together.”  
Michael’s. Not Two’s, and not the exorcist’s. Michael, the person, is what he just said. “You knew him.”  
The chief nods, running a hand through his black, slightly grayed hair. “Indeed I did. He was a fine man. And he was also my mentor a long time ago.” His voice suddenly turns harsh, his gaze cold. “A good man was taken from us a week ago, and when I find out who the one responsible is, there won’t be a single ditch in this world for them to hide in.”  
I retreat my talons as soon as I hear that. There’s no way to fake that kind of hate. He knew Michael, alright, and they were close. That gives him more cause to want to solve his death than what I’ve got. Marissa puts her gun down as well, walking toward the front door. “I’ll be back with the coffee.”  
“One donut for me!” Erin calls after her, still remarkably calm.  
The chief smiles slightly beckoning us toward his office. “Now, why don’t we wait for an hour? The city-wide search for those responsible for last night’s shooting will start at the library, as instructed. They will clear the area by the time we’re done.”  
Slowly, I nod, walking toward him. Johnny and Erin do the same, both hiding from the man’s cold, calculating gaze as best they can. I simply stare straight at him, letting him test me as I do the same. “If you two would like, I could just whip out a ruler to measure your dicks.”  
We all turn around, surprised to see Marissa standing there, back already. No coffee or bagels in sight. She gestures for the front door with her thumb and says, “There’s a man with a bomb out there, demanding to speak to the two exorcists we’re aiding and abetting.”   
I groan, bringing my palm up to my face. Just when things were looking up.


End file.
